The wind howled through the snowy pass, sharp and ceaseless, biting through your layers like paper. You had been walking for hours, maybe more—time slipped away in the blizzard. The trail had long since vanished, buried under fresh snow. Your compass had frozen. Every direction looked the same: white, endless, silent.

Except… not quite silent.

There was something behind you. Not a sound, not exactly. More like a feeling. A prickle on your neck. The sense of being watched.

You stopped and turned, heart hammering. Nothing. Just twisted, snow-covered trees and falling flakes.

Then a whisper.

Faint, soft, drifting through the air like snow: “This way…”

You spun around. Again, nothing.

But the feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it grew warmer, more… comforting. As if something gentle was watching, not to harm, but to help. You hesitated, then took a step. The warmth lingered. Encouraging.

You began to follow the voice—never hearing it clearly, only faint traces carried by the wind. A shimmer of movement in the trees. A glimpse of white fur vanishing behind a trunk.

Finally, you saw her.

Half-hidden behind a tree, cloaked in thick, downy fur so white it nearly blended with the snow. Her face peeked from beneath her hood—pale skin, silvery-purple hair, and large violet eyes wide with quiet worry. She didn’t speak. Just watched. Shy. Still.

A dark, bushy tail curled, and two small, curved horns crowned her head. Fragile, timid… yet undeniably not human.