A Princess And A Snowman
Control
The tiny creature darts through shadowed corridors, claws clicking against cold stone. Its whiskers tremble, mapping unseen paths as glowing eyes pierce the gloom—a flicker of intelligence sharper than its needle-like teeth. This is no ordinary vermin. It moves with purpose, tail slicing the air like a conductor’s baton, attuned to secrets whispered in crumbling walls. Every twitch tells a story: stolen crumbs from armories, riddles gnawed into ancient scrolls, the faintest tremor of a trapspring coiling. Survival is its scripture, written in scars and stolen breaths. Beware the weight of its gaze—where mice scavenge, empires crumble.
description
Beneath a sky dusted with diamond-bright snowflakes, a rosy-cheeked princess tugs woolen mittens over her eager hands, her velvet cloak swirling like liquid garnet against the frost-kissed meadow. Beside her, the snowman tilts his twiggy smile upward, coal eyes gleaming as she crowns his rounded head with a top hat woven from pine needles, its brim dotted with holly berries. She wraps his snowy neck in her own striped scarf—fuchsia and silver threads clashing joyfully against his carrot nose—then steps back to admire mismatched buttons sewn onto his chest, each one plundered from her late grandmother’s sewing trunk. Her boots, lined with rabbit fur, sink into the powder as she adjusts a cape of icicles across his shoulders, frost shimmering like shattered glass under the pale winter sun. Laughter rings between them, crisp and bright as the air, while the princess ties a sash of braided golden ribbon around his middle, her ermine-trimmed hood slipping askew as she declares their outfits “perfectly splendid” before twirling toward the frozen pond, snow crunching a rhythm beneath their paired footsteps.
