when they come for me

He had run from the caves. They were no longer safe. No place was safe enough. No place was hidden enough from his pursuers. They eventually tracked him down, sooner or later. And they trapped him with their lies and false identities. It was all a matter of time. Though if nowhere was safe, where could he go? Would he always be on the run, unable to let down his guard, relax for a minute? Living in a state of frenzy, unease, panic even? It sure described him now, running through the thick tundra. Frigid gusts of wind violently shook his fur and the trees around him. Charcoal paws thundered through the snow. The light drained from the sky as twilight emerged. All he could think of was how exposed he was from every angle. Exposed, exposed, so exposed. But there was a glacier up ahead; maybe that could offer some shelter for the night. Just for the night. He couldn't stay in one place for too long. He had to quick, swift, nimble on his paws. He had to leave no trace of his existence.