Awakening

A rooted sentinel whose reach spans the entire forest floor, feeling the earth's pulse before any living thing stirs.

A flickering messenger that darts between moments, carrying whispers of spring to those who have forgotten warmth.

A cold, coiled arbiter wrapped around the Great Egg, serving neither winter nor spring — only the trial itself.

Winter given form and purpose. Where she walks, rivers halt and breath turns to crystal in the still air.

A blazing herald of dawn whose falling sparks melt the frost and set the horizon alight with the promise of warmth.

The quiet turning of the world made flesh. Where she steps, ice yields without violence and life begins without command.