In November, the end of the night is still elusive. I don't know when to start, I used to sleep in this long and lonely time, although the polar bear does not hibernate, but for me, sleep is the best way to escape from loneliness, after all, wait for after all is a long process, it may kill you hope, but when you close your eyes, whether it is dream or imagination, the picture is still suffused with some bright.
I got up and counted the remaining fish, should be eat only two days, so I reluctantly from my warm ice inside out, head into the cold night, wondering when to reserve some food.
There is no snow today, generally speaking is a suitable foraging weather, I slowly walked up and down, looked around by starlight shone translucent snow, footsteps unprovoked become lightsome rise. It seems like a long time not so easy feeling, since she left, I hide myself in such a place to retire, no and no one said a word, I often automatic speaking, even deliberately from the nose to make sound, to justify their existence.