Lunethra

They call her Lunethra in hushed tones, though few mortals know the name belongs to the presence that walks their winter woods. She is the moonlight that settles on frozen branches, the hush that falls before fresh snow, the unseen guardian who watches from between silver trees. The forest she protects is ancient and deep, a place where frost never fully melts and starlight filters through pale canopies like quiet blessings. For centuries, her wilds slept safely beneath her care. Beasts roamed without fear. Spirits wandered freely through drifting snow. Rivers moved slowly beneath glassy ice. Now the cold is weakening. Patches of earth thaw where they should remain frozen. Creatures flee south in restless confusion. Something beneath the roots of her forest is stirring, something warm, something old. So Lunethra walks beyond her hidden groves for the first time in ages, seeking the source of the change before winter itself is undone.