Starlight and Snow

The biting wind whipped around Elara, a relentless assailant against her threadbare cloak. Snow, fine as dust, dusted the ancient pine boughs, each needle a tiny spear of ice. Her fingers, numb despite the thick wool gloves, fumbled with the latch of her satchel, searching for the meager rations she knew were there – a single, hardened piece of bread. The silence of the Frostwood was usually a comfort, a blanket against the clamor of the village, but tonight, it felt like a predator's hush. A twig snapped sharply to her left, not the quick, light snap of a deer, but something heavier, more deliberate. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum in the frigid air. She spun, her breath catching in a gasp. Through the swirling snow, a towering figure emerged, larger than any man she'd ever seen, cloaked in furs that seemed to melt into the shadows. Its eyes, even from this distance, glowed with an unnatural, cold light, and a low growl, more rumble than sound, vibrated through the very ground. This was no ordinary hunter. This was something out of the old tales, a creature of the deep woods, rumored to steal warmth and life.