Whiteout...

That's all he could see for miles as the tall, imposing figure clad in black armor treaded through the snowswept forest quietly.  A large sword hung upon his back, a torn red cloak draped over his broad shoulders.  He moved quietly, the chilling winds howling and pelting his scarred face with flecks of snow and ice.  All the while, he pondered if a man such as he was worthy of some sort of redemption.

Then, there came a sound above the whipping winter winds.  The cry of a wolf, distant first it was.  Cautious, his hand reached to his sword.  He was not certain if the wolf would pounce on him, but he still kept up his guard.  Back and forth his eyes darted, skimming the forest, what little he could see that wasn't caught behind a veil of snow.  Then, another sound.  He drew his blade to the crunch of snow behind him and the snapping of branches.

He turned swiftly, raising his blade.

[color=ed1c24]"Who's there?  Show yourself!"[/color]