A gust of wind whooshed by, snowflakes fluttering onto the frost bitten ground.
The tint of white hair flickered in the night.
Though there was no one, the sound of full hearted laughter filled the air.
"Not too shabby" huffed the pale boy admiring his own work.
He smiled and leaned on a nearby tree taking in the sight. "You've done it again Jack"
Swirls, and all sorts of unusual designs lined the now frozen over pond;
a complete successes in Jack's eyes.
Fiction had spun out of the pages and into the outside world.
Though human fables had always been here, perhaps longer then we would have imagined, they were all real. The Sandman, Tooth fairy, Easter bunny, even the St. Patrick's Day Lepercon were alive!
Jack new this all too well, considering he was one of them. Mr. Jack Frost himself up to no good as the stories say.
Kicking his feet he took off into the air feeling the cold wind beneath his feet.
His speed was flawless, he was moving so fast that he made the leaves underneath him sway and scatter about, and so effortlessly that it would make a humming bird seem graceless.
He had become so used to taking flight that doing extravagant flips and turns were like child's play.
Without thinking Jack slipped through the twisted branches of a leafless tree, his coat catching a nearby limb, sending him hurtling backward into the rough bark.
The harsh smack had left Jack breathless and gasping like a fish out of water. He glanced at his jacket, it was torn and caught on a thick, wooden arm.
He was stuck.
The more he struggled to free himself from his confines the more he realized his tries were useless.
Calling for help wouldn't do him any good, waiting wouldn't either, who would help someone they couldn't see.
His staff was completely out of reach; magic couldn't get him out of this one.
His thoughts drifted back and forth from escape plan to escape plan, but nothing had worked, and feeling sleep was to overwhelming his mind.
Once more, he kicked forward with all his might and strength, as he did he felt the trees branch give away, its rotting bark breaking with Jack attached at the seam. Desperately he tried to fling himself to another part of the tree, swinging madly like an angered raccoon, but before he had time to react the limb broke sending him flying toward the ground at top speed.
His landing was much less graceful.
Jack hit the ground with a solid thud that echoed through the woodland around him. He touched the back of his head; it pounded and throbbed as his fingers grazed an open wound, he tried to force himself off the ground and onto his feet, a harsh sense of delirium overcame him like pins and needles that send him back onto his bottom as fast as he had stood.
Jack struggled to retain his vision, it looked like he had been seeing through a fogged up glass, he couldn't help his senses, and his mouth was salivating uncontrollably, he began to feel fate. Eyes rolled to the back of his skull, he fell back into the snow, for the first time, he felt completely vulnerable, feeble, and entirely human.
Though he couldn't see, his ears were flooded with sound, the low humming of birds, trees moving in beat with the wind, but a voice caught his attention, one unfamiliar, and foreign.
Before he closed his eyes for the last time that night, he saw the strangest thing.