Utter awe sang through my body at the glistening white glen before me. An iridescent sprawl rippling across the forest—one of soft, fresh snow and beads of morning dew bejeweling each branch and leaf. A pearly, eternal scene, bathed in morning light and night’s still, blue shadows. And at the very center: Arwen. Slumped over atop the powder—eyes closed, lashes dusted in snow. Lips violet and dark hair fanned around her, pale skin brushed with ash. Serene, silent, wholly bare— And breathing.
