In a quiet pine forest, where the trees whispered secrets to the wind, a maiden walked barefoot on the snow-dusted earth. Her dress shimmered like frost, and in her hands she cradled a perfect snowball—round, untouched, glowing faintly blue.
She paused beneath an ancient pine, listening. The forest held its breath.
Then she smiled, gentle and wild.
Winter had come—and she was its first step.