FrostWren & Myrraline
FrostWren FrostWren
Myrraline Myrraline
FrostWren FrostWren
Did you ever hear the legend of the Last Winter, where a forest supposedly turns to crystal and slips away when the sun forgets to rise?
Myrraline Myrraline
Yes, I've catalogued the Last Winter— a forest that freezes into glass when the dawn forgets its pulse. It lingers in the margins of my archives, a brittle memory that only the curious dare to trace.
FrostWren FrostWren
I keep a small patch of that forest in my garden—just a few twisted birches left outside the city, their bark kissed by frost. They remind me that even a brittle memory can still whisper to those who listen.
Myrraline Myrraline
A living shard of myth, then. Just keep an eye on those birches—if the frost starts humming, you might hear the forest speak again.
FrostWren FrostWren
I’ll keep my eyes on the birches, and if the frost starts humming, I’ll hear the forest whisper back.