Elsa moved cautiously through the misty forest, her icy aura dimming as she listened. The sharp click of tongues, the alluring whisper of lips mimicking kisses, and the distant, almost hypnotic whistle wove into the air like an enchantment. She paused. Her breath was steady, controlled—but something in these sounds unsettled her. They beckoned her forward, a peculiar call beyond magic, beyond reason. A game? A trap? Yet… the rhythm of it was undeniably familiar, tapping into instincts she barely understood. A step forward. Then another. The moment she entered the clearing, hands grasped at her arms—too fast, too calculated. A flash of warmth against her cold skin. Caught.

Her icy gaze locked onto the faces around her, their expressions a blend of triumph and unease. They had used the sounds to lure her, knowing some primal part of her would respond. But they had underestimated her.