Outside, the wind blows cold, whipping faces and making knuckles ache. The dark is hanging like a heavy blanket over our town. Wolves run out there among the trees, houses and buildings seeking prey among those roaming between glittering frozen branches. The only barrier between me and the wind and wolves are walls. Walls, just a few inches of wood, glass and paint. The inside walls of my room are the colou of heartblood and so I lay in my warm bed, sleeping soundly. Behind my thin walls, the wind howls.