An old woman lived in a little cottage on the edge of the woods. It was nearing the end of winter, but the snow was still thick on the ground. She was in no distress, for she lived in a land of plenty where few lacked anything and she had much still laid up from the summer before. The woman was just wishing the cold would depart soon, when she heard a plaintive scratching at her door. There was a wolf without; he was huge, powerful, pure white with eyes of ice blue, and a shimmer on his fur as if of light playing off of frost, yet he seemed old, faded from a former power. The woman drew back, afraid of the beast. Her eyes met his and she saw the terror within.

The woman saw the wolf's fear and opened the door just as another, even larger than the first, came into view. The second wolf was golden, with touches of the rich brown of new-turned earth and the red of the fruits of orchards and vineyards; his eyes were filled with the sun at high noon, and wherever his foot fell in the pursuit, the snow melted and green shoots grew up. The white wolf sprung through the door and the woman clapped it to, leaving the other without. The golden wolf howled after his prey, and the snow started to melt all throughout the land.

Summer fell throughout the land, the snowmelt filling the rivers to almost overflowing. The sun shone down brightly, waking all the life that had been buried in the earth in a riot of green and blooming flowers. Men went out to till and work the soil, and the harvests fair leapt into their hands. But while all was green and growing outside, the woman's cottage was filled with the wolf and the Winter. The beast was large enough that he almost filled the main room, and he had brought the cold with him. His breath filled the air with frost, and snow fell from the ceiling to drift in piles on the floor.

Winter filled the cottage, but the Winter wolf had a gentle heart and a love of beauty. The snow was always gleaming white and shining. Icicles hung from the ceilings and doorways, and they and the frost on the windows were contrived to be in delicate, pleasing patterns that shone and sparkled in the moonlight. The woman went out to wash and clean by day, coming home with food for herself and meat and berries (for the Winter wolf had always a love of anything sweet) for her guest. In the evening, the wolf and woman kept close, for the as cold as the Winter wolf's breath might be, the warmth and delight of a dark night spent by a fire with loved ones was ever to be found in his coat. As they cared for eachother, the old woman and the wolf soon fell in love, and one day the woman found herself with child.

The wolf and woman fell in love, and they were both delighted at the thought of a child, but their joy was only for a season, for Summer found his way into the cottage, In breezes around the door and sunlight through the window and even in the berries the woman brought her wolf. And, one day, the woman came home to find the cottage bright and clean, filled with the scent of clover and honeysuckle, and filled with the golden light of noon. It was empty, and she wept for days, knowing that Summer had taken her love.

The woman wept and wept, but her grief soon broke into pain, but joy followed after. The woman was sadly washing one day, when she felt the pangs of the life within her ready to live free. The pain was intense, but brief, and she was soon delivered of a snow white pup, with ice-blue eyes. He was large for a newborn, and his coat glistened like moonlight on ice, his breath left frost in the air. The wolf pup was playful and tender-hearted, having his father's spirit. He adored his mother and brought her presents, likenesses or abstract geometric beauty frozen in ice, always left for her on a bed of purest shining snow. He would breathe frost on the windows and leave pictures within, and frolic around the cottage.

The woman loved her wolf-child, and the Winter grew within the cottage along with the Winter wolf. He grew almost too large to fit within the cottage, and soon it was time for him to venture out. The pup, now stronger and bigger than his father, with all the energy of youth coursing through his heart, said farewell to his mother one last time before stepping outside. With the the first touch of his paw upon the grass and shiver went through the world. All the plants knew it was time for the sweetest, largest harvest of all-- the last before the long sleep.

When the Winter wolf stepped, Summer felt it, and he ran as fast as he could to escape. Winter explored the land, breath sending flowers to seed, until one day he howled forth his challenge to Summer. The Winter wolf tracked him by scent and rumour, running for days and days, slowly drawing near. By the new moon, he had him in sight. Summer seemed smaller and older, his glories faded and his fur all grey and dusty brown; seeing winter, he renewed his flight, and it the chase continued still longer until on the night of the full moon the Winter wolf caught Summer, leaping forward to pin him against the ground. Summer and Winter looked into eachothers' eyes, Summer yielded, baring his throat to his captor with a soft whimper. Winter bowed his huge head, licking the other wolf as if in thanks for play. The moonlight touched Summer then, and he faded, disappearing in a play of golden light that sank into the ground or blew away on the wind.

Summer faded, and Winter walked the land, breathing on everything to send it to sleep. And then the first snow fell.