WINTER WOLF version 3
Word count: 1,168
A lone wolf lived on a mountain that seemed to reach beyond the stars. As he looked down into the bountiful valley his belly rumbled with an insatiable hunger.
There was nothing below that ever satisfied it, so he turned toward the azure sky. Licking his lips he set his sights on the golden apple of the sun.
Believing the sun would fill the aching inside, he leapt from the mountain, snatched it and swallowed it whole.
As the burning sun fell down the wolf’s throat his icy heart turned it into a smoky piece of coal.
From then on the countryside was gripped in a frozen fist of an endless winter as the wolf’s anguished howl rang from the mountain.
“Ahhh-ahh-oooooh!Ah-oooooh!” His wolfsong wailed down the mountain path. Men froze in their tracks and women clutched their babies tight.
In the valley a young woman boldly roamed through the forest collecting healing herbs, her red cape a flame against the snow banks.
When she heard the howling she looked up through the darkness, where the wolf perched in his empty den. She was not scared even as he stared back with icy blue eyes. And as the wolf studied her as small satisfying warmth stirred in his frozen chest.
But the girl did not linger long continuing along the forest path. Hungry for more he followed her, weaving soundlessly between the trees.
When she reached her cottage the wolf watched as her profile illuminated by the hearth’s fire as she cooked her evening meal.
The wolf moved closer to the door, his cold breath snuck through a crack, which startled the girl.
Confused the wolf straggled away, swallowed by the severe night.
When cold breath evaporated the girl went outside, took a fallen tree branch and drew a circle all round her cottage. After she was finished she laid dried summer flowers and salt on top of the circle.
Unable to forget her, the wolf came back but as he tried to enter the circle he was stung by her spell. The wolf whimpered and paced back and forth, as if stung by a swarm of wasps. Defeated he sat on his haunches and called out
“Ahhh-ahh-oooooh!Ah-oooooh! Come out! I won’t harm you.”
“You have harmed everything by smothering the sun.” She pushed the door closed.
However seeing just a sliver of her in the doorway, the warmth in his heart grew.
“But even the sun could not fill my emptiness.” He cried only to the wind, as she did not come back out.
As the wolf retreated she gazed through her window and traced the movement of the scattered stars and the silhouette of the mountain, wondering if he would return.
And he did.
Howling loudly for her.
“Stop! I can’t think with your noisy barking.”
“Come closer to me and I will be silent. I have not eaten for days and the hunger is killing me.”
She fetched a piece of meat and flung beyond the circle.
He looked sheepishly at her, as she slammed the door.
Behind the curtain she watched the slender, slivery shape devour the meat in one gulp.
After the he left she figured the wolf was satisfied and it was safe to venture out to pick berries from the twisted brambles along the mountain path.
But a low growl frightened her. She turned to find the wolf, much larger and fiercer, his eyes holding her in a steady burning stare.
As he moved toward her she broke into a run, fleeing past the trees bowing to the gusts of wind.
The wolf’s massive paws pounded the forest floor behind her. Her cheeks burned and her lungs ached from the cold as she struggled against the weight of the snow.
They ran by the frozen river, down the valley, then into the evergreen trees.
As she ran with the wolf the girl felt truly free, her red cape flying around her like a cardinal’s wings.
The wolf on her heels she darted up a well-hidden path to reach her house.
She leapt into the flower circle and the wolf stopped dead in his tracks. There she stood laughing, flushed, and joyful.
The wolf’s heart burst with heat at the sight of her playful cunning and beauty.
He lay down outside the circle, his muzzle on his outstretched paws, watching her build a fire to warm them both.
“Why do you not play with the village boys?”
“The ravens’ games amuse me more.” “Why don’t hunt any longer?”
“I am always hunting.” He looked straight at her.
“Why don’t you spin with the women?”
“The woods have better stories.” “If you don’t hunt aren’t you very hungry?”
“Yes,” sighed the wolf. “But my heart is full.”
She looked down at the dried flowers and smiled.
When the villagers realized the wolf was visiting the girl they planned a trap.
As the wolf dashed into the wood to see the girl, arrows drove down on him. One arrow seared the wolf’s chest, gravely wounding him. Darting back into the purple shadows of the trees he managed to lose the hunters.
It was the coldest storm of that long winter when the girl woke to hear whimpering outside.
She wrapped herself in her cape and went into the stormy darkness. There she saw the wolf lying wounded next to the flower circle.
She ran to her friend as the snow whipped at her.
“What is wrong?” she cried through the howling storm.
“My heart is on fire.”
The girl went close to the edge of the circle. She reached out and gently felt the wolf’s thick, snowy pelt now matted, his body boney and a deep wound in his chest.
“Stay here. I will fetch you some medicine.”
When she came back, she moved the flowers aside to feed the wolf the mixture. The girl watched over him while he slept.
When the wolf woke, the forest was still and the girl was asleep next to him.
He studied her face; it was glowing with life even in the frosty air.
She woke with a start. “You must go before the villagers kill you!”
“No more hunger. No more loneliness.” The wolf whispered.
The girl looked at the wolf and the wolf looked back into her clear gaze. At that instant, the girl and wolf were one heart.
The girl touched his wound that kindled the smoldering bit of sun inside of the wolf. The sun pierced the wolf’s chest and was released in a whirl of smoke that chased around itself like a pack of wolves.
It is said The sun shot out from behind the tall mountains and settled into it’s rightful home in the sky. The girl and wolf were never found. But as the seasons change if you look closely at the sky you can see a wolf and girl joyfully chasing each other across the sky, never leaving each other too far behind, from winter to summer for eternity.
Version 2
Version 1
Version 2
Sheltered against the jagged Alborz Mountains lay a radiant valley called Hyrcania, Land of the Wolves. The wolves that lived there were fair hunters eating only what they needed to live. Their way of life was as natural to them as the sun passing across the sky. But, as people settled into the valley they thought the wolves were dangerous to their families and their goatherds. Eventually all killed the wolves were killed or driven off by man, all except for one, their pack leader Verkâna.
No more wolf calls echoed through the mountains as Verkana’s looked up into the azure sky and decided in return for man’s cruelty he would take the their most precious gift, the sun.
On a brilliant day he climbed to the top of the highest peak of the Alborz Mountains. He waited until the sun set lower and lower. Once it was close enough, he leapt with all his might from the mountaintop and snatched the sun from the sky into his mouth. Then, with one giant gulp, he swallowed it whole.
His heart had grown like ice from unhappiness, so as the burning the sun fell down his throat it turned into a smoky piece of coal in his stomach.
With the sun gone, the green lands were gripped in a frozen fist of an endless winter. The sunless days merged into a dull white countryside. The valley lay buried waiting to be set free.
Stories swirled in the village like snow drifts that the last wolf had taken the sun. They spoke of Verkana as huge with fierce white teeth and fiery-red, hungry eyes.
But more terrifying than his wolfish body was the Verkana’s howl. “Ahhh-ahh-oooooh!ah-oooooh!”
The sound froze men in their tracks, made women clutch their babies tight and caused children to bury deep under the bed covers. “That is the howl of a heartless creature.” All the villages would whisper in fear.
Everyone, except for one girl, Rozhana. She understood it was a sound only a beast whose heart was filled with great loneliness.
Rozhana lived by herself in her cozy cottage at the edge of the village. She knew every inch of the woods by heart, even now with the paths buried in snow. She knew just where to pick herbs as her grandmother had taught her and she spent her days roaming and picking, then grinding the roots and pale leafed herbs to make healing cures. She spent her nights reading books by candlelight, or, if there were no clouds, she would spend hours studying the movement of the stars, her fingers tracing the star patterns, noticing them shift with the seasons.
Although She had lived on the edge of the village all of her life and yet no one really knew this girl. She spoke kindly to the people, and they spoke to her but it made her sad that she felt so lost among her own people.
With the sun gone the now endless winter pushed down harder on the villagers, making even a simple farm chores a struggle. Men desperate to feed their families tried to hunt in the woods but faded into ghostly figures among the trees never to be seen again. Rozhanna helped with the children who were sick from hunger.
Finally Rozhanna made up her mind to do something. She decided to find the wolf and set free the sun. So she pulled on her warmest boots and gloves then covered herself in her grandmother’s thick wool red cape that was the color of dawn and set out along the mountain path.
As she walked up the mountain all she could hear breaking the stillness of the woods were her boots cracking the icy path. Suddenly a chilling sound broke the silence. “Ahhh-ahh-oooooh!ah-oooooh!” The wolf’s howl echoed though the canyons. She knew she was heading in the right direction.
As path began got steeper the mountainside became rocky with scraggly trees and no animals. After walking for hours Roxhana was exhausted. She sat on a tree stump as the wind blew harder and colder and the sky became darker. She thought about turning back down the path back to her safe cottage but the picture in her mind of the crying children made her heart glow with determination to find the sun.
When Rozhana rose she very hungry. She walked a short while until she found a clearing with a few thick bushes heavy with flame colored berries. She rushed to picked them. Sweet-smelling and delicious Rozhana eagerly ate. Snap! Rozhana turned around quickly to find the wolf. She stood frozen, with the berries juice still sweet on in her mouth and her lips red with juice.
“I have come for the sun.” Rozhana managed to say with a tremble in her voice. She knew from her grandmother that wolves do not kill humans but she was not sure of this wolf.
Verkana paced back and forth snorting the cold air staring at this brave girl. His heart felt a strange burst of warmth now he was so near her. A feeling he remembered from long ago. But he could not trust her or any human. Rozhana tried to move in the other direction, Verkana copied her movements. She then walked in the other direction and he becomes her mirror. Verkana waited for her next move. Tired of this game Rozhana cried out
“We need the sun back!”
Then Verkana growled a terrible fearsome growl, showing his sharp white teeth and his eyes blaring red.
Startled Rozhana broke into a run. Fleeing past the black trees flecked with snow, down the mountain path, Rozhana struggled against the weight of the snow and running as fast as possible.
Verkana’s heavy paws pounded the forest floor behind her. Rozhana’s cheeks begin to burn and her lungs ached from the cold. Her red cape flew around her like cardinal’s wings. She felt the wolf’s hot breath bearing down on her. They ran over fallen timber leaving trails of dirty slush behind them.
Roxhana slipped on an ice patch into deep powder snow. Looking up she had lost her sense of direction, as everything was white as far as she could see. Frightened but still not willing to give up Rozhana pulled her into her cape closer, she turned to see a wild storm now swirling around her and a mountain abyss below. The snowstorm became a blizzard and she could no longer feel her feet in her boots or her hands. Gripping the side of the mountain, her heart beat fast as she realized she was terribly lost in the storm.
Then in the wall of white wind two red pins of light shone guiding her down the path. Eventually Rozhana found herself at near her cottage and the red lights gone.
The wolf was very curious about Roxhana how her gentle warmth pulled him towards her. How brave she was to find him. He watched her from the woods as the glow of Rozhana’s hearth fire bathed her in light as she cooked her evening meal.
“Sweet girl,” the wolf called out. “Come out to me.”
“No, Wolf, I am not coming.” cried Rozhana.
“Girl, I would not harm you. You see I saved you on the mountain.”
“You have harmed us all by taking the sun.” She slammed the door shut.
He waited all night for her to come back out from the cottage. She did not.
The next night the wolf howled even louder. Rozhana came out to stop his noisy barking.
“Stop! You are making it hard for me to sleep.”
“Come closer to me and I will be silent.”
“You are killer and now a fool.”
“Yes. Perhaps both, but I will not kill or fool you, my dearest.”
“Crazy beast, you much look thinner.”
“I have not eaten for a few days now. I waste my nights here waiting for you.” Rozhana again slammed the door, but this time peeked though the curtain at the silvery shadow and the soft steady light of his eyes.
To make sure the wolf could not get too close Rozhana took a fallen a tree branch and she drew a circle all round her cottage. After the circle was finished, she laid dried summer flowers and salt on top of the circle. The next time the wolf came Rozhana watched him try to enter the circle. Verkana yelped as the magic stung him like a swarm of wasps. Confused he whimpered and paced back and forth, finally sitting on the outside of the circle icicles hung from his fur like frozen tears. Sadly, Rozhana pulled the curtains shut.
The next day out of the swirling snow the wolf returned to the cottage. This time Rozhana walked to the edge of the circle.
“Why did you take the sun?”
“I am, after all an animal so I have no heart.”
“I know animals and that is not true.”
The wolf had no answer, but looked sheepishly down at the ground. Finally, he said,
“You are all I need now and am still so cold! Come to me I need your warmth.”
“No Verkâna, but if you need warmth that is why we have wood.”
She made a fire in the center of the circle. As the fire grew, the wolf pulled back in fear at the licks of flame flickering toward him. Eventually he felt comfortable and laid down his muzzle on his outstretched paws. She sat down, also lost in the fire.
As the winter raged on, the wolf made it a habit to visit Rozhana nightly to sit by the fire.
“Why, my beauty, do you not play with the village boys?”
“They are dim and dull. Why do you not hunt any longer?”
“I am always hunting.” He looked straight at her.
“Why do you not spin with the women, nasrin, little flower?”
“They are nice but full of silly stories.”
“If you don’t hunt now, isn’t your hunger very strong?”
“Yes, Rozhana,” sighed the wolf. “But my heart is full.”
She looked down at the dried flowers and smiled.
When the villagers realized the wolf was visiting Rozhana they planned a trap. Hiding near Roshana’s cottage hunters waited in a grove of trees where the moonlight couldn't shine. In Verkana’s eagerness to see Rozhana he didn't sense the trap. The Hunters shot arrows from behind trees that rained down on Verkâna. One arrow hit the wolf’s chest wounding him badly but he managed to run into the darkest part of the woods losing the hunters in the chase.
Rozhana dreamt that night of her her cozy cottage with her books, fire, and lastly her grandmother. My mehry, my sunshine her grandmother called out to her smiling tenderly. Then the sky grew dark, the moon shone silver on the frosty path, the air was clear and crisp, and the voice of the wolf rang out from the top of one of the peaks, calling out to her alone. Rozhana was awoken with a start, wondering if the dream had been real and the wolf had actually called as she slept. She then her whimpering outside.
It was the coldest night of that long winter. Rozhana wrapped herself in her grandmother’s red cape, and ran outside to find the wolf lying next to the circle. She ran to her friend as the snow whipped around her in great circles.
“What is wrong?” she cried through the howling storm.
“There is a pain in my heart.”
Rozhana went close to the edge of the circle. She reached out and gently felt the wolf’s thick, snowy pelt matted and covered in lice, his ribs sticking out.
“Stay here. I will fetch you some medicine.” She came back and for the first time she moved the flowers aside to feed the wolf the mixture. Rozhana watched him while he slept.
When Verkana woke, The night was still as the storm had calmed and Rozhana was asleep next to him. He looked at her, studying her sleeping face, it was glowing red with life even in the frosty air. She woke with a start.
“I do not be afraid I will not harm you. You are my mehry, my golden girl.”
“That is what my grandmother used to call me, her mehry.”
“I must heal you before the villagers find you.”
Rozhana I am not alone anymore so no one can harm me”
I am not alone either now so you cannot leave me.” Rozhana reached to touch his wounded heart. She felt his heart was filled with sorrow, but now also with love.
That love rekindled the smoldered bit of sun inside of Verkâna. Then, like an arrow of light from within, the sun pierced the wolf’s heart and was released exploding in a whirl of smoke, which chased around itself like a pack of wolves spiraling into the winter sky. As the sun burst out Rozhana saw Verkana’s eyes turn from red to calm deep blue to black.
In the days that followed, the snow melted bit by bit and the air became softer as the sun returned to the sky. The valley healed and was lush again. The wolves eventually returned to the valley. What was almost lost was in balance once again.
When it was her time, Rozhana joined Verkana. They chase each other across the sky never leaving each other too far behind following each other from summer to winter for eternity.
Version 1
In the far north of Persia near the Caspian Sea, nestled in the jagged Alborz Mountains lay a fertile, blessed land of Hyrcania, Land of the Wolves. The Persians considered this place one of "the great lands,” which their supreme god
Ahura Mazda
had created himself. The wolves that inhabited the area were fierce but fair predators who killed only what they needed to live, picking off the frail and sickly animals so the herds could prosper. But one wolf, Verkâna, had a greedy appetite that was so voracious that his stomach could never be filled, even with the bountiful food of the valley. The other wolves feared him because his strength and ferociousness were unmatched by any other animal.
One day Verkâna’s hunger was so great, he looked up into the azure sky, licked his lips and set his appetite on the golden apple of the sun. He waited all day on top of the highest peak of Alborz until the sun set lower and lower. Once it was close enough, he leapt with all his might from the mountaintop and snatched the sun from the sky into his mouth. Then, with one giant gulp, he swallowed it whole.
Because he was such cruel creature, his heart was like ice. So as the burning the sun fell down his gullet, it melted into a smoky coal in his stomach. With the sun gone, the rich lands were gripped in a frozen fist. Verkâna became known as the Winter Wolf, who now picked off meager gains of animals and people. It was a dark time that descended upon the world. The people were desolate, hungry and desperate. The earth was out of balance because it had no seasons to direct it.
Rozhana lived alone in her grandmother’s cottage in the woods on the edge of an isolated village plagued by the eternal winter. It was her beloved forest, even buried in snow. She loved it for its quietness; it had so much to give and learn from. Her grandmother had taught her many things about the natural world. Before the sun was torn from the sky Rozhana would venture into the forest clearing to pick aromatic plants and roots to grind into healing potions. On warm, cloudless nights she would lie on the grassy hill behind the cottage and gaze up at the stars, noticing them shift with the seasons.
When she was a child, the villagers warned Rozhana it was wrong to learn things that only gods should know. But if it was wrong to learn about life, then Rozhana was as guilty as her grandmother before her. She knew deep in her heart that the world had a perfect rhythm, a place for all things.
So Rozhana existed contently among her dead grandmother’s books, dried sunflowers, dandelion wine and herbs. At night while Rozhana read by candlelight she could hear Verkâna’s howling, terrorizing the nearby villages. In the mornings she would gather corn, marigolds, foxglove, columbine and wild rose petals from her grandmother’s pantry then spread them in a circle around the cottage to protect herself from the wolf.
As the endless winter raged on, the villagers warily approached Rozhana when she came into town for supplies. They asked if she would help their ailing families with her medicinal herbs. She agreed even though they had treated her unkindly in the past. Her heart felt deep compassion for the sick, elderly and especially children in need, so she could not ignore their pleas.
To fool Verkâna, she conceived of a signal to alert the villagers that the wolf was not near so that they could meet her at the edge of the forest. Rozhana wore a red cape that had once belonged to her grandmother; the villagers were to look out for it as a signal of safety. She would then hand off a small basket of medicines and dart back into the forest.
However, Verkâna became wise of Rozhana’s forest trips and curious about her fearlessness. Strangely, he noticed that he felt a powerful heat whenever he came close to Rozhana, so he began to circle the cottage where she lived.
The glow of Rozhana’s hearth fire bathed him in light as she cooked her evening meal. The hungry wolf tried and tried to pass the flower circle; Rozhana watched him pacing back and forth, sniffing the magic flowers. He tried pushing them away, but he was repelled each time. Satisfied, Rozhana pulled the curtains shut.
Instead of being discouraged, Verkâna came back the next night, pacing again and howling very loudly.
Rozhana opened the door a bit and stuck her head out. She saw the flash of blue eyes and the panting of cold breath.
“Sweet girl,” the wolf called out. “Come out and show yourself better to me.”
“Wolf, I am not coming closer. You will kill me,” cried Rozhana.
“Girl, I would not kill you. That would be like taking the sun from the sky.”
“You have taken the sun with your wicked ways.” She slammed the door.
The wolf was intrigued even more by her feisty nature and again glowing feelings overcame him. He waited all night for her to come back out from the cottage. She did not.
The next night the wolf howled even louder. Rozhana come out to stop his noisy barking.
“Stop! You are making it hard for me to sleep.”
“Come closer to me and I will be silent.”
“You are killer and now a fool.”
“Yes. Perhaps both, but I will not kill or fool you, my dearest.”
“Mad beast, vile thing, you look thinner.”
“I have not eaten for a few days now. I waste my nights here waiting for you.” Rozhana again slammed the door, but this time peeked though the curtain at the silvery shadow outside.
The villagers soon realized the wolf was stalking Rozhana’s house. One night they set a trap for him. His anticipation at seeing Rozhana distracted him so much that he didn't sense the trap in time. Huntsmen shot out from behind a tree and plunged arrows towards Verkâna. He moved away just in time.
The wolf came racing back toward them, his huge paws pounding the frozen earth. Verkâna lunged at the huntsmen and the last thing they saw was the wolf's piecing blue eyes and the smell of his metallic breath. Rozhana heard the cries of the fallen men in the forest. She did not feel fear for herself, but rather pity for the village men and sadness for Verkâna. She knew he must eat to live, but his hunger was so vast it seemed it could swallow the world.
The wolf returned to the cottage after his feast. This time Rozhana walked to the edge of the circle.
“Why did you kill all those men?”
“I am, after all an animal. I must eat.”
“You kill more than you need.”
The wolf had no answer, but looked sheepishly down at the ground. Finally he said,
“You are all I need now and am still so cold! Come to me I need your warmth.”
“No Verkâna, but if you need warmth that is why we have wood.”
She made a fire in the center of the circle. As the fire grew, the wolf pulled back in fear at the licks of flame flickering toward him. Eventually he felt comfortable and laid down his muzzle on his outstretched paws. She sat down, also lost in the fire.
On a blustery afternoon, Rozhana was coming back form the edge of the forest on an errand. Verkâna had been stalking her. She felt him close and smelled his wet pelt. She began to run towards her house to her magic circle. Verkâna ran behind her. She became very afraid, but to her surprise he did not lunge at her. They ran by the frozen rivers, into the valley, and deep into the snow-covered evergreen trees. Rozhana was not afraid anymore; she felt free as she ran with the wolf, her cape flying around her like a cardinal’s wings. The wolf panted behind her, enjoying the chase and feeling the heat of her. Finally she darted back up a little-known path and reached her house, the wolf on her heels. She leapt lightly into the flower circle and the wolf stopped dead in his tracks There she stood laughing, flushed, and exhilarated. The wolf seemed to be laughing too, delighted at her cunning and beauty.
As the winter raged on, the wolf made it a habit to visit Rozhana nightly to sit by the fire.
“Why, my beauty, do you not play with the village boys?”
“They are dim and dull. Why do you not hunt animals any longer?”
“I am always hunting.” He looked straight at her.
“Why do you not spin with the women, nasrin, little flower?”
“They are gossips, full of silly superstitions.”
“If you don’t hunt now, isn’t your hunger very strong?”
“Yes, Rozhana,” sighed the wolf. “But my heart is full.”
She looked down at the dried flowers and smiled.
On the coldest night of winter, wrapped in her grandmother’s red cape, she found the wolf lying next to the circle. Rozhana ran to her friend as the snow whipped around her in great circles.
“What is wrong?” she cried through the howling storm.
“I am so weak. I think my heart is sick.”
Rozhana went close to the edge of the circle. She reached out and felt the wolf’s thick, snowy pelt matted and covered in lice, ribs sticking out.
“Stay here. I will fetch you some medicine.” She came back and for the first time she moved the flowers aside to feed the wolf the mixture. Rozhana watched him while he slept.
Eventually the wolf woke. It was still night, the storm had calmed and Rozhana was asleep next to him. He peered over her, studying her sleeping face, it was glowing red with life even in the frosty air. She woke with a start.
“Wolf, you have me now,” she whispered.
“You are my mehry, my golden girl. I do not want to harm you.”
“That is what my grandmother used to call me, her mehry.”
Rozhana made no move to leave.
“Run! You must run from me, back to your house back to you people, your life,” yelped the wolf.
“My house is empty, wolf. Those are not my people and I now know my life is somehow a part of yours.”
“Run!” He growled. “ Do you not realize my hunger, my powerful hunger?”
She noticed his piercing eyes hypnotizing her, his massive paws and his glinting white teeth. She saw her fate staring her down. She saw confusion and the struggle that was deep inside her wolf. She knew then his heart was filled with sorrow and with love. Rozhana felt if she were to give herself to the wolf, his hunger would cease and the valley and Verkâna would be at peace.
She shook her head, “I will not go.”
He could no longer contain himself; his animal force overcame him. He howled mournfully as he swallowed her whole.
Rozhana’s fiery soul rekindled the smoldered bit of sun inside of Verkâna. Then, like an arrow of light, the sun pierced the wolf and was released. His heart, the wounded damaged flesh she had tried to heal, exploded in a whirl of smoke, which chased around itself like a pack of wolves spiraling into the winter sky.
In the days that followed, the snow melted bit by bit and the air became softer as the sun returned to the sky. The valley healed and was fertile again. Ahura Mazda was pleased to see his valley prosper again.
For his gratuity to Rozhana for returning the sun, Ahura Mazda made Rozhana reborn as summer. For Verkâna learning the lesson of love he was reborn as winter. As the seasons, Rozhana and Verkâna chase each other and because of that chase, the seasons move. Rozhana and Verkâna’s gift is that they will never need to leave each other too far behind; they will follow each other year after year for eternity.
