When I opened my front door, I saw paw prints in the snow, leading past the doorstep and away into the snow-covered lilac bushes. I followed the trail.
My parents were still asleep, and I had plenty of time that morning in which to investigate. The world was covered in snow, and the enormous snow flakes had stopped falling shortly after I had first looked out of my bedroom window. That was only half an hour ago. Beyond the lilac bushes, the paw prints continued to the garden shed.
The deep white made the edges of everything uncertain and dangerous. Behind me lay the secure, warm house. Unlike the creaking floorboards of the house, my boots produced no telltale sound as I walked.