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It was rare for Jack to walk instead of allowing the wind to bear him aloft. He used the mundane activity to help sort his musings, the snow crunching underneath his bare feet. His thoughts were in turmoil. The children he had encountered were terrified, so much so that it overwhelmed their ability to believe in anything good. Several times throughout the night he had looked up to the moon. One thing had not changed from before he had met Jamie though. The man in the moon may have created him, but he certainly had no intentions of explaining things to him.

The white-haired spirit knew he could not stand idly by while the children became too scared to believe in anything other than what terrorized them. They had more than proven that with their reactions to him. Despite his wanting to show them something fun, the kids had quickly become frightened. Their trepidation had extended to an immediate attempt to attack one of their own friends simply because she had been the first to begin following him when they had seen him floating on the wind. He had been devastated by their reactions to the idea that he would freeze a child. The response served to increase his own disappointment.

Even recognizing the emotional upheaval he was undergoing, the winter guardian could hardly deny that witnessing the mass hysteria of the town's children had deeply impacted him. Bronwen had accepted their fear. She had understood it. Jack had been astounded by her willingness to empathize with the children. The girl was also intent on maintaining her faith in him, which had surprised him to no end. Jack had assumed that when children stopped believing – as Jamie had – they simply no longer could believe. The truth, he found, was far more complicated.

These children had lost faith in decent spirits. Many of them had even seen Bunnymund, yet they refused to believe in him. Despite all of his arguments in support of his friends, even Bronwen could not be swayed into accepting the reality of Toothiana or Sandy. When he had mentioned nightmares, though, she had shivered. Though the girl did not recognize Pitch's name, it was clear that the shadowy man held a place within the dark part of her mind wherein she allowed fear to reside.

So preoccupied with his musings, Jack failed to notice that the shadows were growing ever closer to him. Despite the lack of direct sunlight to account for their presence, the dark shades grew ever larger, their forms distorting as they approached the winter spirit. Tendrils extending from the edges of the main mass stretched towards the bare feet traipsing through the icy landscape. As the pieces of darkness crept ever closer to their quarry, they moved to overtake his path. Oblivious to their existence, the ice wielder was unaware of the coils curling in on themselves as he lifted himself onto a passing breeze.

Silver eyes flashed in the darkness as thin lips stretched over gleaming white teeth, forming a grimace on the sallow, grey tinged face peeking out from the depths of the shadows. The mass retracted back to surround its master, enveloping him in a cloak of black shade. The snow reflected what little light there was nearby back onto him, highlighting the mask of hatred distorting his features as he watched Jack fly away.

Annis was incredibly patient. She had learned, in the more than a millennium she had existed, that biding her time was beneficial. When she had hidden herself among the trees, culling her meals from passers by before they had been able to see her clearly, she had exercised great restraint. She knew not to take more than her due. The dark spirit had known there were greater threats with which the mortals were consumed. When Pitch had taken center stage throughout Europe, she had not objected. She recognized that she needed to remain as unobtrusive as possible to keep herself from drawing the attention of enemies she could ill-afford.

Because she had learned to wait, she had survived the lean times. Aware of such beings as Tsar Lunar, the witch knew the value of postponing action until the right moment. Such determination had served her well during the years when meals were scarce. Days would pass without anyone being foolish enough to be caught out at night in her territory. When such things happened, it was not uncommon for her skin to shrink about her skull, tightening around her eye sockets to the point of making her lone eye bulge from its pocket. The blue tinge of her skin in those times was often attributed to a cold which would permeate the bones of every denizen of the land. Ironically, times of hunger for the greater populace would often turn into times of plenty for Annis as a result of the 'charity' the mortals would teach their children to extend to strangers.

Curtailing his desire for importance was not a virtue that her current associate possessed. She could not concern herself with his shortcomings. She would use him until she no longer needed his assistance. The greatest benefit he was to her at the moment was in his relationship to the Guardians. While her power was growing, she held no illusions that she could defeat the group if she came in contact with them. It was sheer luck that she had come across the one she most wanted to encounter alone when she had. It had not escaped her that his thoughts were in turmoil. His heart, however, was the one thing she intended to exploit from him.

Dwelling on these matters had not been her intent upon entering her cave for the day. Like most spirits, she did not need slumber. That was not to say she could not sleep, a fact that the humans had once learned and harnessed to great effect. Her patience had served her in that as well. As the mortals had fought wars which shamed any horrors she had ever visited upon the little borough she inhabited, they lost any notions of fearing creatures such as her. Arrogance in their own abilities and confidence in their own superiority led to their neglect of ceremonies that had been held for centuries.

Exploiting that presumption, Annis had bided her time. She had exercised the restraint for which the British isles were renowned the world over. Even as she waited for the sunset which would allow her to seek out the winter guardian once more, she remained unperturbed by the possibilities Pitch had presented to her before he had vanished from her abode. She would wait, as she had learned to do from many years among the mortals. At nightfall, she would determine for herself the extent of any damage to her budding hold over the youngest guardian.

Night seemed to be falling earlier in Jack's estimation. He could not be certain, as time did not pass for him in the same way it did for the mortals. Regardless, it seemed that the disfigured woman who loved the winter had popped up beside him the moment night fell. She tilted her head to one side as she regarded him.

"You seem to have had a rough day, Jack."

He shrugged. "Something happened yesterday." The ice wielder kept a close watch on the other spirit, gauging her reaction to his words. She appeared merely curious as she asked for details. Relaying the events of his encounter with the children, he omitted his conversation afterward with Bronwen. Her response was not entirely what he had expected.

Clapping her hands gleefully, the blue-skinned woman danced in delight, the wind twirling the snow about her giving her the impression of an ice princess. For the first time in Jack's memory as a spirit, he shivered. Even when disgust had coiled in his stomach at the thought of the world Pitch wanted him to help create, he had not given in to the overwhelming desire to shudder. Faced with this creature's joy in the face of the horrible intentions of the town's children though, he could not resist the tremors that shook his spine.

Finishing her dance and seeing his grimace, she told him she was merely pleased with his own creativity in his attempts to entertain the townsfolk's progeny. The youngest guardian remained unconvinced. Still, when she beckoned him to walk by her side, he willingly joined her. She refrained from giving him an open smile. Where he might have been grateful for the restraint before he had spoken to Bronwen, the spirit's reaction to his tale had made him want to compare her features to those described by the young girl. Even her hood remained firmly affixed, though, thwarting his efforts to determine any possible parallels of her face with the description of the witch he had been given.

Apparently sensing his preoccupation, her hand reached out, sharp talons clacking loudly against the wood of his staff. The ice that made its home on the shaft of Jack's shepherd's crook receded from the spots where her touch alighted. Whether such had been her intent, the reaction immediately caught the winter spirit's attention, returning his focus to her and their nightly promenade.

"You miss your friends." The ice wielder shrugged. She turned from him, releasing her hold on his staff. "One in particular, I think." His eyes narrowed.

"Were you listening in on me last night?"

"No. But I hardly have need to." She turned to face him, her eye raking over his figure from head to toe. "You wear your emotions in every fiber of your being. You are desolate, much like this land right now."

Her words startled him, giving rise to an uncomfortable train of thought. He shook his head, choosing to ignore the idea she had presented with her observation. Instead, he answered only the first query. "Yes, I miss them."

She nodded, turning as she continued to walk. Looking about them, Jack noted with some surprise that they had somehow managed to leave the village again. Having traveled with the wind for centuries, he knew well that it could easily displace him with but a thought. Since meeting this woman, it seemed to bend to her will, removing them from mortal civilization. The ice wielder could not help but wonder why she felt such isolation would be necessary.

As though she had heard his thoughts she turned to him, smiling. "I like to walk along the hills outside of the developments of man. I spend all day in a cave, Jack. Would you not also become bored of looking at stone?"

True to his nature, the younger spirit responded with an impish grin. "Point taken."

They walked in silence a while. Realizing she had no intentions of revealing her identity – and if she were indeed the being he suspected her to be, he knew well why – Jack considered the options available to him to force her hand. That she was crafty was not in doubt. The ice wielder thought back over their long conversations, his memory revealing to him that she had repeatedly allowed him to verbally dominate those encounters. Allowing a gentle breeze to carry him a small distance away from her, he was startled from his musings as her voice carried to him.

"Have I bored you then?"

"No, no. I'm just..." He let his voice trail off, truly uncertain as to how much he wished to reveal by ending that sentence. She saved him the trouble.

"Contemplative." She grinned at him, a glint of mischief in her eye. He could not help but return the gesture. "Fancy a spot of fun to take your mind off it?"

Cocking his head to the left, Jack gave her a toothy grin. "What do you have in mind?"

In the blink of an eye, they had traveled over one hundred miles. The ground was still covered with a dusting of snow, and frost still crunched under her leather boots as she walked. He hovered alongside her, both keeping silent as they crept up behind the children out far too late in the evening. She made sure her hood was firmly in place, hiding her features completely before bending down to scoop up some snow. Packing it into a ball, she held it in front of Jack. Smiling, he breathed on the ball, knowing that when it impacted, the pair would have a playmate, if only for a little while.

With but a thought, he held out his hand and formed another. The pair let the snowballs fly through the air, their perfect aim causing the projectiles to connect with two different children. Those two began giggling before they scooped up their own wet snow, making their own winter rockets and launching them at their friends. Within minutes, the group that had been heading quietly to their homes were playing loudly in the street, all worries of evil spirits having evaporated.

Hovering behind one group, Jack kept them supplied with ammunition, a simple wave of his staff creating an arsenal for their disposal. Not caring where their missiles had come from, the children quickly opened fire on their counterparts as they all took cover behind trees and bushes along the sidewalks to keep from being pegged by the wintry substance. Caught up in the fun of the moment, the young guardian created a wall of ice between two trees, allowing the group opposing his own some semblance of a fort while he kept the children on his side heavily supplied with the winter armaments.

The scream that rang out from behind the wall he had made ended the merriment. The children scattered, none of them taking note of the spirit rushing over while waving his staff to melt the wall he had created. Two children were standing over a third who was gasping for breath as she tried to stand, her legs giving way as she slipped on the wet ground beneath her. Seeing her predicament, Jack drew the winter weather back, allowing the girl to gain her footing. His companion frowned, her lone eye glinting in the moonlight.

Landing in front of the children, the ice wielder whispered to her that her face had been revealed. He had himself been repulsed by her missing eye and sallow skin. Because of that, the white-haired spirit certainly could not fault a child for the same reaction. Her response surprised him.

Her voice was a hiss to match the disgusted sneer that twisted her lips. "I know, Jack."

The children quivered behind him as she took a step forward, causing him to brandish his staff against her. "You're scaring them."

"I know that too. I mean to scare them."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he regarded her carefully. His staff glowed blue as he prepared to defend himself and the children if need be.

Seeing his intent, she pulled the sleeves of her robe back away from her hands, her yellowed talons shining in the light reflected off of the snow below. One of the children gasped, her name a whisper in the breath that escaped. Taking advantage of the moment, the ice wielder made the decision to confront her.

"Why, Annis?"

Her teeth gleamed as her lips lifted into a smile. "I thought you knew. I'm cruel."