My Short Short for the Day

 

It was a cold, cold day on the ice far up north where only Polar Bears dare to venture out into the open air. The wind was howling, swirling the dusting of loose snow up into little tornadoes and sending them to dance across the frozen ground. The sky was full of gray clouds blocking out the sun and any hope of warmth. The white was almost blinding. Far off into the distance a little black dot could be seen slowly meandering down a trail that could only be followed by scent. The blistering cold froze each little drip of moisture almost instantly, forming an icicle beard on the huge beast. Lumbering down the trail, the bear wagged it's head back and forth searching for something, anything that might settle the growling in his tummy.