INT. FORD TRUCK - DAY
The world outside is a blur of white and slate grey.
DEVON (17), pale, dressed in a coat too thin for this latitude, presses his forehead against the vibrating glass.
Condensation halos around his breath.
JEDEDIAH (70s), weathered like old leather, drives with hands that look like knotted rope. He stares straight ahead.
The heater WHEEZES. Dust motes dance in the lukewarm air.
Devon shifts. Pulls his sleeves down over his hands.
JEDEDIAH
Jedediah points a gloved finger.
Through the windshield, a plume of woodsmoke rises from a valley of deep snow.
EXT. RANCH - CONTINUOUS
The truck CRUNCHES over packed snow and rolls to a halt.
A log house hunkers down under a thick blanket of white. A barn stands nearby, massive and silent.
In the yard, COLE (17), blond hair wild, no hat, swings an axe.
THWACK-THUNK.
Wood splits. Cole laughs, breath puffing in the frigid air.
He sees the truck. Jogs over. He isn't running; he's bouncing.
COLE
Cole yanks the driver's door open. Gives Jedediah a one-armed hug.
He leans into the cab. Grins at Devon.
COLE
Devon stiffens. He unbuckles his seatbelt slowly.
EXT. RANCH YARD - CONTINUOUS
Devon steps out.
The wind hits him. A physical slap.
He gasps, wrapping his arms around his chest.
DEVON
COLE
Cole claps him on the shoulder. Hard.
Devon slips on a patch of ice. Flails. Regains balance.
Cole doesn't notice. He's already looking at the house.
COLE
Devon looks at the endless white horizon. Then at his canvas sneakers, already wet.
JEDEDIAH
Jedediah hauls a duffel bag from the truck bed. Drops it in the snow.
THUD.
Cole grabs Devon’s heavy backpack. Slings it over one shoulder like it’s empty.
COLE
INT. GUEST ROOM - DAY
Sparse. Wooden walls. A single window.
Devon stands alone. The silence of the house is heavy.
He unzips his backpack. Pulls out a sketchbook.
He moves to the window.
OUTSIDE:
A fence line cuts through the snow. Jagged. Posts askew. Wire sagging and buried.
Devon puts charcoal to paper.
He doesn't draw the mountains. He draws the broken fence.
EXT. WEST FENCE - DAY
The wind HOWLS.
Snow is knee-deep. Devon struggles to lift his legs.
Cole bounds ahead, carrying a toolbox.
They reach a section of fence where posts have snapped clean off.
Jedediah inspects the damage.
JEDEDIAH
Jedediah hands Cole a heavy steel post-hole digger.
Cole positions it. Slams it down.
CLANG.
The earth doesn't yield. Cole grunts. Slams it again.
COLE
DEVON
Cole pauses. Wipes his nose with a glove.
COLE
Devon steps forward. Takes the tool. It drags his arms down.
He lifts it high. Swings down with everything he has.
The blades hit a rock.
The handles jar violently. Devon loses his grip.
The digger CLATTERS to the frozen ground.
Cole bursts out laughing.
Devon’s face flushes red. He bends to pick it up.
COLE
Cole steps in. He doesn't take the tool back. He positions his hands over Devon's.
COLE
Devon hesitates. Then nods.
COLE
They drive the tool down. It bites into the earth.
COLE
They wrench the handles apart. A clod of frozen dirt comes up.
COLE
SLAM. Pull. Lift.
SLAM. Pull. Lift.
A rhythm forms. The laughter is gone. Only the sound of breath and metal on earth.
INT. BARN - NIGHT
Warm. Smells of hay and milk.
Red light from a heat lamp bathes a small pen.
A NEWBORN CALF, shivering, lies on straw.
Devon sits on a stool. He holds a bottle. The calf is too weak to suckle.
Jedediah inserts a tube down the calf's throat. Devon winces.
JEDEDIAH
Jedediah stands. His knees POP.
JEDEDIAH
Jedediah leaves.
LATER
Cole enters, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Devon is on the floor of the pen. The calf's head rests on his lap.
Devon is sketching. Fast, fluid strokes.
Cole peers over his shoulder.
ON PAPER:
The calf. Not just the shape, but the fragility. The exhaustion.
COLE
Devon jumps slightly. Covers the page.
COLE
Devon shrugs. Uncovers it.
Cole sits in the straw opposite him.
COLE
DEVON
Cole picks at a piece of straw.
COLE
Devon looks up. Wait.
COLE
Cole tosses the straw away.
COLE
DEVON
Devon taps the sketchbook.
DEVON
The calf stirs. Bleats softly.
Devon strokes its neck. Cole reaches out. Rests a hand on the calf’s flank.
They sit in the red silence.
EXT. SNOWMOBILE TRAIL - DAY
Speed. Blur.
Two snowmobiles tear across a frozen meadow.
Cole leads. Devon follows, leaning into the turns.
They crest a ridge. The world opens up. Peaks on all sides.
INT. LINE CABIN - DAY
Small. Rustic. A wood stove in the corner.
Devon stacks firewood. The pile is small.
Cole checks the window.
The light changes. Instantly.
The bright sun vanishes. The room goes grey.
DEVON
Cole looks out. His face falls.
COLE
EXT. CABIN - CONTINUOUS
A WALL OF WHITE hits them.
Wind SCREAMS. Visibility drops to zero.
Cole grabs Devon’s jacket. Yanks him back toward the door.
COLE
INT. CABIN - NIGHT
The wind hammers the walls. The cabin shudders.
The wood stove glows faintly. The fire is dying.
Devon sits on the floor, knees to chest.
Cole stands by the stove. He holds the last log. A small, knotty piece of pine.
He opens the stove door. The embers are fading orange eyes.
He tosses the log in.
It catches. Flares up. But the wood is thin. It won't last.
Cole turns to Devon.
The bravado is gone. The jock is gone.
Cole’s hands tremble.
COLE
Devon looks at the fire. Then at his sketchbook on the floor.
He looks at Cole.
Devon stands up.
BLACK OUT.