With stately grace and slow, the Winter Queen walks the sleeping land. All has been measured and counted in; the Earth is now at rest. It is not without love that she brings the cold season, but a deep need for silence and sleep. The world has been so busy, occupied with living and growing, and now it is time for slow and quiet. She brings the breath of Winter in her passage, rattling empty branches and sending a skirl of snow over the brown grass. With each step the earth becomes iron; with the cold, the water turns to ice. Her white cloak and gown match her long white hair, glowing a silver-blue under the full moon light as she sends a swirl of frost from her fingertips to line the branches and cover the panes with delicate pictures. Such fragile beauty belies the underlying strength, reminding us once again not to judge too quickly. An owl soars past on silent wings, her presence barely marked by the swift rushing of air. Within the Wintertime trees of the quiet forest, the red deer walks with the Queen, his hooves muffled by the fallen leaves. He pauses for a drink at the stream, and all is still once more. This is the world of the Winter Queen, calm and silent, everything at rest.
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