#snowwitch

Celebrating Winter with the Jackalopes, who are clearly experts at building snow witches.

The first snowfall of the season always thrilled Adeline, but this year felt different. As she stepped into the icy morning air, the world seemed to whisper her name. Her boots crunched against the fresh powder, and she stretched out a hand, her breath visible in the cold. A tingling sensation crept through her fingers, and to her astonishment, the snowflakes halted midair, shimmering like tiny stars.

"Am I dreaming?" she murmured.

The snow swirled around her outstretched hand, forming a delicate sphere that hovered obediently. A giggle escaped her lips, but it froze as quickly as it had come when the air turned sharp and silent. From the shadows of the pine forest, an ancient voice called out.

"You’ve awakened it, child. The power is yours... but it comes at a cost."

Adeline spun around, her heart pounding. An old woman wrapped in a thick fur cloak emerged from the woods, her eyes pale and frosted.

“Who are you?” Adeline asked, her voice trembling.

“I was like you once,” the woman said, stepping closer. “A Snow Witch. One who bends winter to her will. But beware, for the more you use it, the more winter consumes you.”

Adeline frowned. “Consumes me? How?”

The woman extended her hand, and Adeline gasped as she saw her fingers—gray and brittle as frozen branches. “Each spell steals warmth from your soul, until you are nothing but ice.”

Adeline’s first instinct was to run, but the snow around her responded to her fear, swirling into a protective wall. The woman smiled, a hint of sadness in her expression.

“See? It already obeys you. But the choice is yours—master it, or let it lie dormant. One path brings power, the other peace.”

For days, Adeline wrestled with the decision. She practiced in secret, drawing snow into beautiful shapes, conjuring storms to clear her path. With each spell, she felt the icy grip tighten on her heart. Her fingertips tingled constantly, and her breath grew colder than the winter wind.

One evening, her village faced a blizzard so fierce that people were trapped in their homes. Adeline knew she could stop it, but at what cost? Her reflection in the frosted window startled her—her lips were pale blue, her hair streaked with white.

“Let me help,” she whispered to herself. Stepping outside, she raised her hands to the swirling storm.

The snow obeyed her command, calming and falling gently to the ground. Villagers emerged, cheering her name, but Adeline staggered, her strength sapped. Frost crept up her arms, but she smiled.

“Thank you, Snow Witch,” an elderly woman said, grasping her icy hand.

Adeline realized then that her gift was not hers alone—it belonged to the world. She would use it sparingly, knowing the cost, but also knowing the warmth of helping others could keep her soul alive, even in the deepest cold.