Blackfeather Woods winter has come

It was too cold for Astrid's liking. She was no potato anymore, and could not comfortably cuddle against her three brothers anymore, but damn had she wished to be a potato. Not even the warmth of her cold-hearted mother took away the chilling breeze that found its way through everyone and everything. The snow had been fine, with the mild cold she could cope with - but this was just ridiculous! Confused did she look up when mother went outside, finally proclaiming her as mad before she was almost forced to come with. Where they were going, she had no clue - until they came upon one of the many openings to the underlying tunnels that she had sort of learned to navigate.

She understood now, and gladly followed to the warmer - almost breeze-free area of their territory. She hoped mother had not noticed her scars by now, but knew the question as to who did it to her would come sooner or later - she predicted. Damien, she ignored, not wanting to deal with him at the moment now that her life had been thrown around and she was having a mid-life crisis at the age of a few months.