Writing passage in the first person, 2-24-12

Footprints in the snow led the way as I followed my friend.  His hunched shoulders and weary look betrayed what I thought was a reliable friendship.  I was cautious as we walked through the snowy forest, the trees creaking with the wind, snow falling on our backs.  As soon as we were deep enough, he turned around, a gun in his hand and the look of vengeance in his eyes. Fear flashed across my face and stayed in my gut.  I didn't  know what was happening, confusion reigned my thoughts.  My first instinct was to turn and run; thats exactly what I did.