It was a rough morning. You’d woken up in the woods, it was a truly brisk day- snow dwindled as it fell to the ground at a slow pace.

As you wandered, your arms crossed your chest in an attempt to keep warm. Though, through the journey- you’d always felt warm hands pushing you forward.

When it grew dark and cold, a swirl of light emerged and flourished. A few flowers grew among the snow, some of it melting. It looked like a path. . .