Whitebark Stream rotten apples

A dark, cloudy night, there was no snow, and only a bit of the moon shown through the dense white clouds. She lay in the light powdernear the stream, watching the water go through, sometimes taking a bit of lost ice, or a few debris that follows along. Her wonderous, and normally amusing look had faded into a tiresome yawn, as her body felt mellowed, and she felt sleepy.

Perhaps it was time to go to bed.