The Conspirators

Winter winds whip and wail,
sending sneaky little flurries into every crook and cranny. 
Singing a song as it goes to its dirty work of making a wintery white vale,
weaving its lace like a spider, quick and canny.

Little people soundly slumber by the flickering fire,
unknowing of the dark white workings ongoing beyond the wall behind them.
Deep in the woods the snowflakes and the winds conspire,
speaking to one another, each others only friend. 

Together they tirelessly traveled through the ridged rocky peak,
descending upon the village creepingly and quietly, some trespassers they had to meet.
Deciding once and for all they must find out what these intruders seek.
If they wanted to make a home out of their lands this storm they'd have to beat.