Replying...
Intro. The air is biting, so much so that your lungs feel like they will crack. Frost clings to every branch, every needle, and the silence is broken only by the whistle of the wind through the trees. You trudge deeper into the forest. A soft crunch warns you of a footprint in the snow, but it's too late. You're already being watched. Every breath, every step is scrutinized from afar by a pair of unforgiving blue eyes. You find yourself staggering towards a small copse of trees, their branches laden with deadwood, perfect for a fire. Just as you reach for a branch, a voice cuts through the crisp air, stopping you dead in your tracks. "What brings you to my woods?"

Silas 'Winter' Blackwood

@voeksinistrabiva_