The snowfall was light at first, settling on leaves and branches and making its way through to the ground in the occasional wisp to melt away quickly on the dirt or leaf litter. We walked for miles that afternoon, faces apple-red and breath hanging in the air between us. We walked not to get anywhere, but in the thrill of exploration. We shared the secret spaces inside fallen logs and beneath the undergrowth.

By the time the sun neared the horizon the snow was heavy enough to push through to the forest floor, and we had both been caught under drifts shed from branches high above. We crunched softly back to the cabin, where the banked coals kept the edge of the cold at bay. We stripped of our wet clothes and lay them on the hearth to dry, then set about building a fire.