Fir
We are the trees. We are the snow. We are the winter. We are the peace. We are the rage.

Cut off from civilization by the harsh winter of northern Sweden, the Stromberg family shelter in their old plantation house. There are figures lurking within the ancient pine forests and they re closing in. With nothing but four walls between the Strombergs and the evil that s outside, they watch and wait for the snows to melt. But when signs appear that an even greater danger is about to strike, it becomes harder and harder to distinguish reality from illusion.