"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."
She barely notices the icy cold of his fingers as they twirl and turn through the snow. The wolves dance around them, silent, the moon glowing off their fur. Her feet and their paws leaves imprints in the snow, glorious spiraling patterns nearly as beautiful as the frost Jack painted across the forest. "Just for you," he'd whispered as as the icy lace spinned from his fingertips. In the morning, the civilized children would look out their windows to see their world blanketed in pure, fresh snow. White as far as the eyes could see. There would be fires in the hearths, and toys and trinkets under the yule tree. But tonight, under the blessed full moon, there was more dancing to be done. Jack Frost does not tire so easily.
24. Midwest. Female. Witch. // Ask & I'll Ask Back; Follow me & I'll Follow You. ♥ // Wolves and Wildwoods // Vampyre Bats