#niveous.

Even in her secluded palace she’d heard of the all-powerful North Wind. For the strength of her magic, the nature of his abilities all but dwarfed hers – only recently was she able to expand her influence to include her entire kingdom, a small bubble of her own wild storm – and she had come to respect, albeit grudgingly, the sheer power of Boreas Frostheart.

The flight to the old howler’s castle was a pleasant one, with plentiful snow flurries and breathtaking views to occupy her thoughts. She was concerned, to say the least, on many fronts; her own powers aside, she doubted he would so much as give her the time of day, especially when few people had ever encountered the old man on more than one occasion. Supposedly only his servants (not to mention his rumored bastard children) ever spoke to him regularly; perhaps she would catch him in a particularly charitable mood?

It's hard, these days, being alone. It always had been--as Snow grew older and older, it got harder but more necessary to deal with. A little girl living on her own drew interest; when she was younger occasionally she would find travelers, or lost little children her age, and she might play with them, or invite them in. But then they would talk about bringing her to adults where people could take care of her and--and how could she allow that? She had to stay here, and make sure nothing happened to her parents and her darling sister while they rested.

One by one the statues filled her courtyard. Some of them had look terrified in their last moments. Some hadn't, completely oblivious to the action she had to take to protect her poor family. Soon the visitors came less, and less, and the men started to come, looking for the witch who took their brothers and sisters and children and family. They tried to kill her. More statues filled the courtyard.

As she grew older, she grew as hostile as the bitter winds she controlled. The entire kingdom began to go. Some left. Others became more adornments to decorate her palace, all in elaborate poses and unique clothes, some poised to attack, others trying to flee, some even resigned to their fate, standing, waiting.