Winter Whispers

The wind howled like a banshee, whipping snowflakes sideways and stinging

Anya's exposed cheeks. Each breath she exhaled formed a fleeting cloud of

white that danced on the frigid air before dissolving back into the swirling

chaos. The woods, once vibrant and alive, were now a monochrome landscape

sculpted by the storm. Towering pines, stripped bare by the relentless wind,

clawed at the leaden sky like skeletal fingers. Beneath the ever-thickening

blanket of snow, the forest floor lay silent, its secrets buried deep.