»Why does it always feel so much warmer when it's snowing than when it's not?» mrs. Tico wondered out loud, not looking her companion straight in the eye when she entered through the door, trying to shake the dense snow off her boots.
Her companion did not reply.
»You wouldn't know, would you?» mrs. Tico continued. »Since you hardly ever leave the front of the fireplace.»
As she was again met with no reply she wandered off into the kitchen to see if the water was boiling yet. It wasn't. She added a log of wood in the stove. She would have to chop some more firewood in the afternoon, after checking the bear traps.
Her companion came into the kitchen to see what she was cooking. He looked at her, his head slightly tilted, with eyes full of hunger.
»You haven't eaten today, have you?»
Still unable to get a word out of her companion, mrs. Tico continued poking the logs of wood inside the stove to feed the gently flickering flames. She closed the stove lid and absent mindedly fiddled around with various dishes and pots on the kitchen counter.
»Now, what was I just thinking about?» she wondered out loud. »It was something important, I'm sure. Or maybe not. Perhaps I'll remember it when I go clear the snow off the porch.»
Her eyes suddenly glistened with a newfound epiphany.
»Oh that's right, why does it indeed feel so much warmer when it's snowing than when it's not? I mean, last week the meter was showing exactly the same temperature as it is today. But last week it was raining a bit and I could hardly move with my whole body frozen to the bone. And today, when it's snowing like that, flakes gently falling down—»
She was cut off as her companion started furiously ripping open a bag of potatoes.
»Oh, stop that! You'll get food soon enough. Go wait by the fireplace, you...»
Her companion took off and waited by the fireplace.
»Now then, I seem to have lost the track of my thought again. Ah, it's just as well.»
The water was boiling now. Mrs. Tico dug out a fist-sized lump of something wrapped inside a piece of cloth out of the fridge. She put it on the table and unfolded it, revealing the leftovers of what just over a week ago used to be a bear. She blatantly tore the lump into a few smaller pieces and tossed them into the boiling water. Then she snatched a few potatoes out of the bag her companion was so keen on getting open just a moment ago and threw them in the water without bothering to chop or peel them first.
As soon as she finished putting all the ingredients in the boiling water there was a knock on the door. A single knock. Mrs. Tico waited a few minutes to hear another one but she never did. She walked to the door and presse her ear against it.
»Who might that be?» she asked her companion who was still quietly sitting on the floor by the fireplace.
She opened the door and there was no one there. All she could see were the trees of the surrounding forest waving in the soft wind behind the snowflakes. Then she looked down. There was a raven lying on the porch. It wasn't dead, just badly injured. It had left a small bloodstain on the door.
»Oh my», she muttered. »Looks like dinner's early, doesn't it?»
Her companion immideatley got up from the floor and ran to the porch. He picked the raven up with his sharp teeth and let it out of its misery. He was very discreet about it. The pile of snow on the porch stayed clear of blood while he enjoyed his dinner. The bag of potatoes suddenly became much less interesting.
»Shut the door behind you, will you?» mrs. Tico said and walked back into the kitchen.
It stopped snowing. The door was still open. It got cold. Mrs. Tico added the last log of firewood in the fireplace when she noticed something was wrong.
»Something's wrong», she wondered out loud the way she always does. »Not the cold. I knew it wasn't going to snow forever. Something else is wrong.»
She couldn't quite put her finger on it until she walked around in front of the fireplace for a while. Then she noticed something. She didn't trip over anything like she sometimes does when she walks around in front of the fireplace. She looked down. It took a moment before she noticed something was missing from the circular rug she had placed on the floor. Her companion was gone. And the door was still open.
The door being open wasn't anyhow unusual since her companion has trouble reaching door knobs, which she sometimes forgets. But her companion should be there, on the circular rug. He always was.
Mrs. Tico walked out to the porch. The raven was gone and so was her companion. All she could see were the trees of the surrounding forest staying completely still being caressed by neither snow nor the cold northern wind. And tiny tracks on the snow leading into the forest. It was quiet leave for the soft rattling the ravens were making in the forest.
She heard a scream. Then the ravens flew off.