Anathons Yule Night

No living soul detected Anathon Abrahamsen as he abandoned his car and plunged into the dark winter forest. Snow cascaded from the heavens, forcing him to wade up the slope towards the ruins where an abandoned cotter's farm once stood. He pushed through a belt of spruce trees before a white, desolate landscape opened before him. On a low hill stood the ancient ash tree, leaning over the snow-covered marsh.