The day was cold and bitter, however the skies were open and beautiful, the sun glistening on the snow below, the frosted ground melting ever so slightly to create a picturesque image. There were children playing in the softened snow, throwing snowballs and making sculptures out of the frozen flakes. Laughter filled the air, completely opposing the one individual sitting atop a leaf-less tree.
The girl looked no more than twenty years old, however her eyes, cold and hard, said otherwise. They were the colour of dying embers; deep red, with flecks of gold dashed through. Her long, unruly hair whipped around in the gusts of wind; it was loosely curled, beginning a deep, fiery red at the roots, gradually turning a lighter orange, the tips a bright yellow, like a fire. Her clothes were simple; a burgundy hoody covered her torso, the material made of a strange fabric that glittered yellow in the right light. Black leggings, cutting off mid-shin, and a small red and black plaid skirt adorned her lower appendages, while her feet were left barefoot. The bark around her feet was slightly scorched, as though her feet themselves had burned the tree.
She watched the children frolic happily, unsure of her own emotions. Watching the joy and elation made her want to mimic the mood; she was heavily influenced by the emotions around her. Passion was her strong point; she could amp up the heat between people if the feelings already existed. She thought herself a modern-day cupid. However, her own feelings were brooding, as she was never able to completely involve herself with everyone else, for they could not see or hear her.
A familiar boy caught her attention. He was conjuring up snowballs by some mystical powers which originated from the staff he refused to relinquish, manually throwing them at the children. His laugh was captivating, pure and free. He floated around, darting between the children unseen, launching snowballs at unsuspecting victims. His white hair, naturally mused by the winds, glittered with melted snow tousled through it. His hoodie, deep blue and sparkling white, was visibly damp, as were his brown pants. He, too, was shoeless.
His feet touched the ground, and he stepped back, looking at the environment around him; the children having fun, the adults smiling fondly at them. He was completely unacknowledged, no matter how much he was the centre of the fun and the life of the game, because he was invisible to these people.
He caught sight of the lonely girl in the tree; she looked like a little flame from the distance, her hair whipping around her face. What struck the boy as unusual was that she wasn't joining in on the fun with the other children; surely she didn't think herself too old to play?
With a sly smile on his face, the boy levitated toward her tree, not surprised she didn't notice his arrival. Her gaze was set on the horizon, presumably watching the clouds float along leisurely. Unable to hold his snarky grin back, he formed a snowball in his hands; perfectly crafted, the little ball of white nested in his hand naturally. He blew on the sphere; it glowed a soft blue as his breath hit it, returning to normal when he ceased.
Without a second thought, he lobbed the frozen ball towards the girl. It glided perfectly to her perch, her eyes lighting up with shock before the ball careened into her face. She was completely caught off guard, unable to balance herself as she fell backwards off her precarious branch. Before she landed in two feet of snow, something slowed her decent, until she hovered over the ground.
The boy was mixed with confusion and surprise; he wasn't keeping her suspended. He watched as the snow around her melted swiftly as the warm thermals kept her afloat, before she rearranged herself to stand on the ground, where only the snow about her feet began to melt, albeit at a slower pace.
"What the hell was that?" she quizzed aloud, looking up at where she had been no less than three seconds before. She spotted the boy, her eyes narrowing. Soft blue sparks jumped from her eyes, her gaze softening slightly, into something more mischievous.
Hastily, she bent down to form a snowball, far larger than needed. As she roughly shaped it in her hands, it was clear why she'd collected so much snow; it visibly melted the longer she fondled it. The misshapen ball of frost left her hand; the shot was true as it smacked the boy similarly in the face. Instead of a solid thunk of compressed snow, the ball was more like a slosh, and the clumps of watery now dribbled down his face instead of exploding around it.
Looking smug, the girl didn't expect what came next; the boy held the staff with two hands, blue veins of icicles venturing up the staff from where he grasped it, and waved it before him. Snowballs formed by the dozens before him, slowly rising from the ground. The girl, foreseeing being buried alive by snowballs, took a defensive stance.
With a swift movement of his staff, the snowballs all soared towards her with devastating speed. She threw her hands out, palms facing the barrage of snowballs. It appeared she created an invisible barrier, because not one spec of shaved ice managed to get within a metre of her; it all melted away before evaporating into the atmosphere.
"That's taking it too far!" she accused, though it was clear she wasn't upset about it; there was a massive grin adorning her face. The boy was thoroughly confused; who on Earth was this girl? "It's about time you engaged contact."
He dug his staff into the ground and leaned on it casually, though still wore a face of befuddlement. "What? Who are you?"
She shrugged. "I'm nobody. You're Jack Frost, chosen by the Man in the Moon to be the winter spirit and Guardian of Fun."
How did she know all that? Jack was slightly troubled; he'd never seen this girl in his life, and he'd been around for a long time. "What are you?" he rephrased, hoping for a proper answer.
"The opposite of you," she answered ominously. Warm winds picked up and took her to the air, leaving Jack bewildered with more questions than answers.