It stood there, calm and alien, at once very like those forest dwelling fools far to the south, but at the same time far too different to be mistaken for one of their kindred. If any doubt remained, the vast black pools of its eyes laid waste to them. It was whiter than snow, almost brilliant with it, as if the snow and parchment-coloured birch trees that made up the forest were pale greys, a fading dream before its reality. It was if the world would break where it stood if it truly set foot upon this earth, and all about it would die of shock.