There were times when Icy would just lie on the ground and stare.
Times she’d lie there with her lips slightly parted staring at the sky.
Times when she’d just watch the moon fall back behind the clouds and then regain its light once more.
Times when she’d just lay there and let the snow fall upon her and cling to her lashes. She wouldn’t brush it off. What need was there to do so? The layer of frost was soothing. The rays of the moon hueing her skin a sparkling silver.
And she never knew why she was there. When the forest beckoned her, she would go. It was always quite. Always still.