I was walking through the woods. The ground was buried deep beneath the snow, and the sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon in weeks. If it hadn't been for the green northern lights casting its reflections, it would have been pitch dark. Instead, the snow had a pale green glow and the sky was covered in light, dancing wildly above me.

They say that the veil between worlds wears thin during the polar night, and that the northern lights might reach down and fetch your spirit if you're not careful. I believed it, at least the first part, but it never stopped me from straying to the woods nearly every dark day.

I can't remember how old I was, but I remember my big, black dog by my side. He scared strangers, but was kind as a lamb.

If the northern lights reach down and fetch you, where does it take you? And what is on the other side of the veil?

We walked past the marshes, past the hill, through the electric fence and to the foot of the mountain range before turning back, me and my dog. All the while I could feel the light above me, dancing wildly. It had a voice as well - a voice like wind howling, frozen lakes moving, fire crackling and birds I've never heard screetching. I kept walking, but the lights became increasingly overwhelming, with its almost violent, and yet beautiful dancing and singing. I was almost out of the woods when I couldn't stand it anymore and collapsed in the snow. I rolled over onto my back, and suddenly it was everything I could see.

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