Why Does Stained Snow Sound Poetic?

There is something poetic about blood staining pure white snow. It's twisted, but poetic. 

That's the one thought that crosses my mind as i watch the snow turn to the color of my blood as it's spilt onto it. 

The silent sound of snow falling is easily overcome by the growls of the things tearing into me.  I  don't fight them. How can i? I can't move my arms because they have them in their sharp teeth. I'm numb from the cold and blood leaving me at a rapid pace.  I don't understand why they haven't gone to my neck yet, silencing me for all eternity. They just continue to tear and bite into me, as if they want me alive for the whole experience. 

I look over at the black wolf whose golden eyes continue to watch me. Why is it just watching? Why isn't it helping to take down their prey? Probably because i'm already taken down? 

I'm on my stomach, my head turned to look at the questionable wolf. My body is jerking and moving as the wolves pull and tug at my limbs. My face scrapes at the snow and my shirt and jacket is tugged upwards, exposing the skin on my stomach to the snow as well. 

I don't care about those things though. I don't care about the pain, i can barley feel it anymore anyways. I don't care about my body becoming colder and colder. I don't care about the blood seeping into the snow. I just watch the black wolf as it watches me. 

After a long while the tugging stops as the black wolf begins to walk forward. I'm not scared to tell you the truth. I haven't been scared this whole time; i think that makes me a bit weird seeing i've been scared of mostly everything my whole life. Like ever getting a boyfriend, or getting in a bathing suit in front of guys. I'm scared to put myself out there or to get hurt. But here i am getting hurt and about to die, but all the fear that i've had isn't here. 

I think the wolves are actually really pretty. And I don't bare any hatred to them. THey are just doing what they've always done, hunt and kill. THey are just trying to survive. This is what i get for going on the walk in the woods like the stupid girl that i am. 

I watch as the black one comes closer to me, leaning it's head down towards my neck, its mouth open and teeth exposed. 

"It's okay..." i whisper to myself. I'm surprised the words actually come out of my mouth, but they do, and then it's over.