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The crisp air of the high mountain valley

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always smelled of wood smoke and frozen pine

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needles,

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just as twilight settled over the peaks. By

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the time the last bruised purple rays of

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the evening

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sky faded behind the jagged summits, Oak Haven

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was completely blanketed in fresh, untouched snow.

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It had fallen steadily all afternoon, muffling the

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world until the only sound was the soft

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crunch

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of boots and the occasional slide of heavy

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powder from a sloping timber roof.

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Maren pulled her heavy wool scarf tighter around

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her neck and stepped out onto the narrow,

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winding path that connected the lower terrace to

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the square. Around her, the ancient stone houses

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seemed to huddle together for warmth against the

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encroaching winter night, their thick walls

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absorbing the chill while glowing amber windows promised

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hearth fires within. Heavy pillows of

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white sat atop every slate -tiled roof, transforming

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the rustic architecture into a sprawling landscape

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of fairytale curves. Along the twisting stone walkways,

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brass wall lanterns flickered to life,

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casting long, dancing shadows across the white drifts.

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Their warm, golden light caught the rising

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steam of Maren's breath and made the frost

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on the surrounding pine trees sparkle like scattered

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diamonds. It was a deeply peaceful winter atmosphere,

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one that made the biting mountain wind feel

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miles

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away. She reached the village square just as

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old Bram was finishing his rounds, lighting the

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final

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iron lantern by the well. Quiet night, isn't

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it? Bram murmured, tipping his fur -lined cap

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as Maren

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approached. The best kind, she replied, smiling as

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she looked up at the breathtaking expanse of

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stars

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now punching through the darkening sky. In the

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shelter of the peaks, wrapped in quiet snow

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and

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glowing warmth, the village slept.