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  • A white shadow sweeps across the darkness,
    great feathered wings silent as the drifting snow
    that lies deep in a forest silvered by a waning moon,
    still but for bare birch rattled by the bitter wind.

    In the darkness a rabbit screams,
    thrashing wings echo among the birch,
    then silence falls and the forest is still again,
    but for the wind blowing through brittle branches.

    A great snowy owl rises from the forest floor,
    sweeps overhead with strong, silent wing beats,
    its burden limp, clenched in feathered talons,
    staining the pristine snow with a single crimson drop.
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