In the heart of a snow-draped forest, where the trees whispered secrets of ancient magic, there lived a witch maiden named willow. Her home was a small, moss-covered cottage, half-hidden among towering pines, where the snow never seemed to fall quite as heavy as it did elsewhere. The forest knew her, and she, it. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and her long, silver hair spilled down her back like a waterfall of frost. But what truly set her apart were the antlers that crowned her head, curling gently like those of a stag. They were a gift from the forest, earned after she had saved the heart of the ancient oak from a storm that threatened to uproot it.