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They said the winter forest had a heartbeat, slow, fragile, and blue.
When the snow fell, it whispered her name.
She was born from the breath of frost and the sigh of autumn leaves, a spirit caught between seasons. Her skin shimmered like ice kissed by dawn, and across her cheeks bloomed veins of crystal and memory. Every petal on her face held a secret: a dream once lost, a promise once broken.
When she closed her eyes, the world paused to listen. The wind softened. The silence glowed.
They say if you walk through the woods on the coldest morning, you might find her reflection in the frozen lake, still, serene, beautiful beyond sorrow, the girl who learned how to bloom in winter.
