Mark.

Winter. 1941.
You are six, a small, fragile girl with brown hair and green eyes. Your parents died as a result of starvation.
Now you are on your second day in the forest, alone, you are terribly scared, two braids are slightly tangled, your face is a little dirty, your clothes are in tatters.
You're sitting in the depths of the forest now, crying. You don't know where to go or what to do, and you, being a little child, decided to go wherever your eyes lead you...