Deep within winter’s embrace, a faerie stands vigil and watches over the sleeping land. Her wards are the multitude of slumbering creatures tucked away in burrows and dens, holds and lairs.
Some sleep for months at a time, others snooze between brisk forays out through the chilly snow drifts. All endure the winter’s long progression with stoic acceptance.
The fairy remains intensely aware of each creature’s well-being. She feels their heartbeats and senses their breathing as if each were her own. In doing so, she stays finely attuned to the ebb and flow of both their individual and collective life-forces.
And she doesn’t go unnoticed, either. Her gentle but enduring presence provides constant comfort, and many creatures sleep more soundly because of it.
Even though there might appear no end to winter’s frozen grip, the fairy remains keenly aware of its ultimate destiny. Every winter finds rebirth in spring, as does all life.
She continues to stand motionless, watchful, and reverent, her silent vigil a testament to the depth of her love for the land and all it nurtures.