PREVIEW

... he clouds are the billow of silk in her stride. The snow falls upon the land and leaves the glittering beauty of white.

The maiden's voice rises, the soft song which tugs at and shakes loose the last crinkling leaves, beauty ephemeral passing as it may only once in each turning.

On comes the winter. On comes the snow. See its glitter, look in awe upon the hills laid to rest 'neath the blanket of white.

See the mortals, telling their tales round the fires, the nurturing ...

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