The night is cold as snow falls onto the cold earth one of the darkest night of the year. It is New Year’s Eve and in a far-off mountain on the other side of the world is a group of log cabins forming a little village. In one of the largest cabin’s the members of the family and village gather to celebrate the end of the year. The friends and family gather around to celebrate in the main room with food and drinks to keep the bitter cold away as they laugh, drink, and eat before the blazing fire. While they enjoy themselves in the main room just a bedroom away a little boy is being tucked into bed. His mother, a golden-haired woman with golden eyes softly sings an old Russian lullaby, Bayu Bayushki Bayu, to her young son.

“Sleep, sleep, sleep,

Don’t lie too near the edge of the bed

Or the grey wolf will come

And grab you by the flank,

Drag you into the woods

To dwell under the willow root-.”

The little boy’s golden eyes grow large as he pulls the covers up to his chin and stares fearfully at his mother. His mother smiles and says, “It is just a song, Sasha. Now go to bed my little pup and remember your mama and papa are just a door calls away. But don’t worry, my little pup for your mama will come back and check up on you in a little bit.” Placing one last kiss on her son’s forehead, the young mother closes the door behind her and returns to the New Year’s Eve celebration.

Sasha, the little changeling boy pulls the covers over his head as the shadows in his room grow ever so large and fill him with fear. Sasha’s golden eyes begin to sleepily close shut when he hears a soft rustle near his bedroom window. Sasha’s eyes blink open as he curiously peeks over the bed sheets to gaze at the firmly closed bedroom window.

Nothing can be seen through the misted window except for the moonlight peeking into his bedroom. Suddenly, a red blur appears innocently on the other side of the window panel. Sasha squints his little eyes until he recognizes the familiar shape as it bobs in the cold night, it was a red balloon. Who could have possibly put it out there?

Sasha frowns in concentration as remembers his older cousins leaving him sweets and little treats to find last year during the festivities of the New Year. This surely must be a new surprise for them! Confident at having a response, Sasha carefully slides out to bed and puts on his slippers lest he catches a cold from walking barefoot on the cold floor.

Sasha creeps across his room and stares up at the misted window panel and the red balloon hanging just beyond his reach. Climbing onto the chair beside his window, Sasha presses his little hands against the window and clears the mist. The window is cold as Sasha stares at the snow-covered landscape.

Under the brightly lit moonlight, Sasha can see in the dark as the moonlight reflects off the snow. Sasha frowns as he notices that the window latch is firmly locked. Sasha little nimble fingers struggle to open the window latch as he uses all his might to get it to turn. Luckily, the window latch suddenly loosens and the window latch pops open.

With a bit of strength, Sasha pushes the bedroom window open and reaches for the trailing red string of the red balloon. In the blink of an eye, a gloved hand wraps itself around Sasha’s little hand and pulls him out the window. And without a single sound, the startled figure of Sasha vanishes into the snow-covered forest without a single trace.

The snow continues to fall and pile up on the open window ledge. Sasha’s mother soon returns to check on Sasha but to surprise as she opens the door a cold blast of freezing wind hits her in the face. The golden-haired woman frowns at feeling the coldness of the room and bites her lip in worry lest Sasha catch a cold.

The golden-haired woman glances to check up on her sleeping son, but with shock finds an empty bed. With surprised eyes and with horror Sasha’s mother sees the open bedroom window. The golden-haired woman rushes to the open window. “Sasha?!” The golden-haired woman frantically shrieked into the silent night. Not hearing a reply, the young mother crams her head through the open window to search for tiny pawprints or footprints below on the newly falling snow. But to her shock, there is nary a sign of footsteps on the snow or the scent of her pup.

The golden-haired mother hastily rushes back towards the party and begins to hysterically yelp that Sasha is gone. Immediately, the partying family members and friends quell down and put down their vodka drinks down. The men run out into the snow without coats to search, while the wiser members transform into their wolf forms to sniff for the scent of little Sasha.

Sasha’s father, a golden-eyed changeling with handsome, but rustic features holds his wife in his arms and whispers, “They will find him, I certain of it. Sasha will be fine.” His wife merely shudders in arms as she weeps with anxiety and fear as they wait for any news.

By midnight, members from other pack’s living on the mountains arrive to help to search for the missing child. The Changeling’s split into teams of three to search for the missing child, Sasha. The volunteer’s loudly call out to the child by name swiftly making the woods ring with shouts calling out a single name, Sasha. But to there grave fear and worry, there is no visible response attempt heard from the child to call back.

At dawn, the corpse of little Sasha’s mangled corpse is found at the bottom of a ravine. If Sasha had not died from the terrible inflicted wounds to his tiny body or the fall down the ravine, the cold would have ensured his swift death. The family of the broken-hearted mother struggles to keep her away from the dreadful scene, while she screams at her husband to let her go.

A rescue volunteer carries the wrapped corpse of Sasha in the blue blanket and out of the ravine. Seeing the tiny tufts of golden hair sticking out from the edge of the blanket, the mother of Sasha loses all of her strength and collapses against her husband’s chest. The family members weep in silence as the volunteers that came to their aid duck their heads down in mourning. Soon the valley down below is filled with howls and cries of wolves and other creatures in mourning.

However, on the top of a faraway hill, a cold grin can be seen on the face of Fenrir, before he disappears into the woods behind him without a trace. And all too soon, exactly in seven days in a different part of the world, another changeling child would go missing and come dawn their mangled corpse would shortly be found. The pertinent question wasn’t if the killer would stop his crimes or if he would be caught, but rather, when would the pack leaders connect the dots?