About the book: year / In a neighboring hut a baby roared until he burst into tears. The forest, echoing his cry, sang an incessant evil song. The rustling of leaves became either human voices or the ringing of bells. On nights like this, when the Howl-Wind raged, no one slept. The little children cried as one, anticipating trouble. For as long as Ruta could remember, the villagers were always missing a chicken, or even a calf, after such nights. And after sunset the children were not allowed not only into the yard, but even to the windows.