Street lamps stain the night with a buttery glow.

The moon attempts to contribute his own light, but he can only do so much when in his crescent form.

If I look close enough, I notice that the blankets of snow that cover the land and roads ripple with hues of silverly blue when the starlight hits them just right.

As I plunge further into the deep night, I realize I am not alone.

A pair of crimson eyes shine unblinking from the tree line. The barred owl waits patiently, scanning the milky landscape for any signs of abnormal movement.

I continue my stroll with a sense of security knowing I have an overseer to alert me of any dangers that may be lurking in the inky blackness.