The wind picked up slightly, the snow kicking up from the ground only to twist in the air. The untouched snow glimmered underneath the sunlight tempting anyone to take a step into it's hidden depths.

A black feather rested on one of the tracks, before being picked back up and into the wood. The wood shifted, but had you not been paying attention you would've never seen it. The wind died just as suddenly as it had picked up, small flurries of snow falling back down to earth as the sun proudly gleamed in the sky.

A white rabbit hopped out from behind a tree, freezing as if just realizing Sigurd was there. It's nose twitching, smelling the air before slowly hopping away into the thickened wood.