The heat from the following day had gone and the forest was quiet. Little snowflakes sank through the air as if too light to penetrate it. Suspended, they drifted down in a straight, slow line, collecting in little huddles against the ground as packed white. The pines of the evergreens shivered with the strange cold. The red squirrels and rabbits scurried back and forth in confusion, pursued with glee by the foxes and little cats that bounded after them. And beneath a blanket of snow-downed bog grass laid Merida, teeth chattering while she slept. But as the snowflakes began stinging the cuts on her cheeks her eyes scrunched and opened, widening as they adjusted to their surroundings. Dazed, she stumbled from the ground and sank her leather bound feet through the snow. The sweat under her arms had cooled to ice and made her sides numb. But in ignorance of it she held out her hands and caught the falling white flakes in her arms as they drifted from the clouds low in the sky.

"Snow in August," she whispered, examining the flakes as their crystalline shapes popped to bubbles against the skin of her palms. As each destroyed itself in heat Merida's memory returned and she let her hands fall to her sides. When she reached to her back she found her quiver and arrows in their rightful places. And then she rushed forward.

Bounding over logs and stumps and dodging mad scurrying animals, Merida whizzed through the forest in the direction she had come the night before. Though she tried forcing herself to be silent hoarse whispers escaped her throat, until her panic was so great that she moaned with anxiety. Prayers ran backwards and forwards through her mind as she sang them to the wind. But when she reached the clearing where the night battle had taken place her mind ceased and fell through her ribs, swimming down into her gut and disappearing as her eyes widened.

The carriages were gone, as were most of the trunks of chests. The snow was so heavy in this area that it reached to Merida's knees, and the wind cried as flakes fell from its clouded cheeks like tears. As Merida stepped forward something hard caught her foot, but when she looked down she gasped. The body of the man who had chased her laid frozen beneath waves of white save for his head, which gaped from the surface of the snow with blue cheeks and rolled back irises. His mouth hung open and his purple tongue lolled over his lips like the entrance to a deep cave. It disgusted Merida, but she forced herself to look at it. Her fear was that she would be confronted with much worse.

Dizzy as she forced herself forward, Merida stared around for any sign of life, any movement. But everything lay dead and still. Though the road was thin it stretched before Merida's eyes like eternity, unchartable. Stepping around in a circle, she let her teal blues flow over its expanse, even training her vision towards that dreaded campsite. It was there she saw the mound.

Tall and black it stood like a sluggish creature, bent and tired. Its breath rose from its belly as smoke, carried into the sky in little turrets. Its body was a collection of things, piled up at the center of the campsite where the fire had been. Each organism within possessed gawking limbs, bent in all directions in grotesque display of disarray. Merida snorted in puzzlement as she stepped towards it. It was certainly not clothing, although there were some articles strewn over the strange black creatures inside. And it was not wood or stone, though there were smashed planks of wood beneath it, the green and gold paint from their exteriors peeling onto the ground surrounding. So what was this strange dumping of things?

Merida felt a lump rising in her throat and gulped it back down, growing dizzy again. Her stomach hurt. The smell from the mound was revolting, and caused the food left in her stomach to gurgle and twist. When the stench filtered through her nose and settled at the roof of her mouth Merida spit hard, wiping her mouth savagely with her hand. Her forearm was stained with droplets of warm water now, and her eyes stung. The moisture that hung over her irises acted as a kind of magnifying glass. Instead of blurring, the world around her shone with blaring clarity. The leaves of the trees grew unfathomably green. Their brown bark glared and Merida could see every sinew, every cambium cell that lay against their backs. The sky was so grey and the ground so white. The mound seared through the center of it all like a burn mark, a shadow or a hole, twinkling with bits of burnt color. Merida stepped towards it with heaving breath and furrowed brows. Then she moaned.

The gnarled remains of a hand hung from the side of the mound like the mass's own arm. Merida glanced to a different part of the pile. Charred bones held together by sinews connecting arms and legs twisted without reason. Skulls took shape amongst them, their jaws open and eyes burnt out. But Merida counted three bodies ending at the neck. One was small and thick, another willowy, and the last a vast creature with a mangled left leg, absent of bone to its knee. Merida's mouth fell open as she viewed this one, and her throat emitted a low whine unlike any sound she had made before.

"No," she whispered as her hand fell above the missing knee, casting a shadow against the charred thigh. "No!" she screeched again. In a rage she tore the hair from her head and beat her feet against the ground, screaming to the sky, which howled back at her in anguish. "How could you?" roared Merida to the air, "How could you?" Then she began to cry. The wind was so cold that the moisture froze against her cheeks. But as she finished mourning she gulped back what was left in her stomach and placed her hands around the vast skeleton's waist, heaving it from the pile and nuzzling her nose into the crook of her neck at the ensuing smell. The stench of burnt flesh rose in a puff of steam from the mound's center in a low gurgle, but with gritted teeth Merida continued to heave. The wind aided her pursuit and flowed from behind, pulling her waist and tipping her backwards as tears began falling from her eyes. Their watery globules blurred her vision and made her stumble. Yet in the earth's unclear image Merida was certain she saw the wind heave the top of the mound into the air so that her father's skeleton could remove itself from within.

Ripping the body from beneath the mound and letting it collapse to the side, Merida drew her bow and arrow from behind her back and aimed.

"Who is there?" she hissed, treading forward on silent feet. The snowflakes surrounding her halted their sky fall and suspended themselves. "Are you a spirit that is haunting me?" asked Merida further. Then she stamped her feet and yelled, "Answer me!" so that the wind picked up again, snapping her arrow and bending her bow.

"Come out and fight like a true warrior!" screeched Merida, kicking up ashes in the air's face. Before her an image began to form, and as her eyes widened and her belief strengthened it took on the shape of a young boy, covered in tattered clothing. His bare feet hovered in the air and his fingers held tightly to a staff of gnarled wood, which spiraled at the tip. As Merida watched him her eyes widened and she gasped, tripping backwards over her father's body and bumping her head against one of the surrounding evergreen trunks. At first the boy was translucent, road visible from behind his back. But now he filled out, and Merida saw that his matted hair was paler than ice, though the roots were black. His teeth were the color of snow and the cuticles of his nails glowed blue, as did the crystalline irises set in the eyelids above his high cheeks. Those blue eyes stared at Merida in confusion as their owner fell to the ground and stepped forward.

"You... can see me?" whispered the boy in shock, gripping his staff tightly. In a fit of terror Merida strung another arrow and fired it right through the boy's chest, watching in horror as it whizzed into the trunk of a tree at the edge of the snow covered road behind. The boy swiveled his head around and sighed as he saw the arrow. When he turned his head back his eyes burned with nervous excitement. "I have never met someone who could see me before!"

"Who are you?" commanded Merida, though her voice was hoarse. The boy smiled and bowed, his feet lifting up behind him as he tipped his body forward.

"I'm Jack Frost."

"What?" Merida croaked. Jack laughed. "I'm Jack Frost. I command snow and ice. Wanna see?"

"Why do you speak strangely?" snapped Merida, gripping her bow tighter. Jack shrugged and fell to his feet again. "All the spirits speak like this."

"Spirits?" Merida whispered, to which Jack nodded. With a wide grin he twirled up into the air once more, this time sitting cross-legged against his staff as if it were a swing. He indicated around him.

"There are a lot of spirits out there, none as important as me," he added with a sly chuckle. When Merida did not respond his breath fell flat. "That was a joke."

"I do not find you funny," hissed Merida in response, crouching as she tried stepping forward. "I find you terrifying."

"That's not good," sighed Jack in response, descending once more. This time his feet stayed against the snow covered ground and sank amongst the flakes. "I never wanted to be feared..."

"Why did you hide me last night?" Merida spat as she remembered. She was sure it was he who had lifted her by the foot and flown her through the forest to the swamp. "Why did you not let me fight astride my father, who died protecting his family while I lied hidden beneath snow?" To this onslaught Jack hunched against himself and backed away from Merida, his blue eyes widening. Merida expelled the bad taste that was traveling up her throat by hocking. Then tears rolled from her cheeks again and she collapsed into the snow beside her father. His clothes and rings had been taken from him. The broach that clung his cloak to his back was gone. The bone was gnarled where his head had been severed. Feet shifted behind Merida and a hazy shadow fell over the white ground beside her. It was Jack, bending to look at the body. His eyes were sad as the snowflakes began falling once more. "You would've died if you'd stayed," he muttered. With a twisted grimace Merida turned and shouted, "Better to die than to cower in the woods!"

"You are being ridiculous!" snapped Jack in return, the wind howling as he gritted his teeth. "How would you have avenged him if you were dead and headless too?" then he folded his arms before his chest and bent towards her. "That wouldn't have been very convenient."

"Do not speak of my father like he is a lump of wood!" cried Merida, gripping her bow in her hand. Jack snickered and flew into the air, resting against a tree branch. "Well he's pretty dead."

Enraged, Merida flew towards Jack and grabbed his feet, swinging him around her and causing him to fly through the air when she let him go. Narrowly dodging a tree the boy cried out and flew back at her, resting before her with a glare while Merida drew to ready position. "Let's fight." She hissed, spitting at his feet. "Without your staff or snow and without my bow."

For a moment Jack's eyes widened in disbelief. But then they narrowed and his grin widened. Shrugging the staff from his arm and laying it softly to the ground as Merida did her weaponry, Jack shifted with slow steps towards his opponent. Then Merida lunged and Jack dodged, laughing as she stumbled into a tree. Cursing under her breath Merida turned back and lunged again, this time barely missing his dirty tunic before his feet hovered into the air. "Cheater!" Merida roared, pointing to his suspended toes, and Jack scowled and set them back into the snow. Charging one more time, Merida evaded the boy's flying fist and grabbed him around the waist, tackling the boy to the ground and getting a handful of his hair in her hands. Then she pressed his face into the snow to suffocate him. Hacking and spluttering Jack shook his head from Merida's grasp as she sat on his back with gritted teeth. "You win!" squeaked the spirit, trying to lift himself from the ground without his powers- but he was quite skinny. "I said you win!"

"I demand an apology on behalf of my father," replied Merida.

"I was the one who helped you get him out of the pile!" snapped Jack in return. When Merida did not get off his back he scowled. "I'm sorry," the boy mumbled finally. "For being mean to your dad."

"Apology taken on this occasion," responded Merida. Pushing herself up she got off the ground and reclaimed her weaponry, throwing Jack his staff. By this time the fall of snowflakes had stopped and the clouds disappeared, revealing a warm summer sun. The field of white had already begun to melt. Jack stood amidst the dying winter with shuffling feet, pressing his shaking fingers against his staff.

"You know..." he started, capturing Merida's attention. Then he hesitated. "You and I are alike in certain ways. We both have similar... problems," he added in a murmur. Then his crystalline eyes turned up to meet Merida's deep teal blues. "And I know solutions."

"What do you mean by 'solutions'?" questioned Merida, matching Jack's pitch. Jack shrugged and grinned with nervous energy. Then his smile disappeared, replaced by a smolder that hid great bitterness and fear. "I want to help you," he whispered.

"To do what?"

Again Jack hesitated, uncomfortable with his own mind. But then his teeth gritted and his fists curled until his knuckles grew purple. "I want to help you take revenge."

Merida gripped her bow and quiver tight in her arms and looked down at the body of her father. When she glanced back to her companion he understood and drifted towards her, using the wind to pick up the body. "Where do you want it?" he murmured. Merida shrugged. "By water. By a loch." She added in sadness. Jack nodded and whizzed high into the air above the trees, setting his palm above his forehead to peer around. Then with a cry he pointed into the distance. "The swamp empties out into a river, and then a lake. It's fifteen miles."

"Fifteen miles?" cried Merida. When Jack looked down at her he grinned. Then he cried out to the wind and it answered, swirling around him as he pointed to the body. Its charred frame lifted from the ground and drifted through the air. But as Merida glanced from it to the pile, her heart constricted and she gulped, calling for Jack to stop. The skeleton fell to the dust and Jack joined her as she pointed in a different direction, to the mound. "There were three bodies without heads. What does that mean?" she asked. "Why did the others not have their heads cut?"

To this Jack became somber and shuffled his feet. His lashes lay low over his irises, which were cast down. Then he cleared his throat. "Beheading is reserved for nobles."

For a moment Merida could not understand. But it was not long. Her palms sweated as she dashed to the mound again, examining the remaining bodies without heads. One was small, normally sized, while the other was tall and willowy. "Who were they?" she cried, turning and advancing on Jack, who drifted into the air and held his staff before him for protection. Merida stamped her feet. "Tell me who they were!"

"There was a maid," murmured the pale boy, still drifting. "When one of the men went to assault her she... she said that she was count's daughter, princess Merida."

"She told them she was me?" Merida breathed. "What did they do to her then?"

Jack did not want to speak further. But he had been compelled, and twitched in distress.

"They assaulted her anyway," he muttered. "That's when I went back to check on you. When I returned she and a woman were dead. The older one was tall with straight red hair. And they had beheaded the count. I left again and didn't come back until the morning."

Heart beating hard, Merida ran through the chain of events in her head. Three presumed nobles were killed. One was Fergus. The next was a maid masquerading as herself. And then was Juri's mother. What about her own? Merida's mind seared to the image the night before, the one of the great shadow lolloping from Eleanor's carriage. Another of Maudie, screaming as she exited her own, followed by three little shadows. Then her eyes widened.

"My mother might live," breathed Merida. Jack looked up in confusion and Merida addressed him. "I am certain the fiends thought that Juri's mother was my own. The maid looked alike to me. And my brothers are out there somewhere. No one knows about Juri. And they think I'm dead."

"How could your mother be alive?" whispered Jack. "Was she not with you?"

Ignoring him, Merida responded with beating breast, "Did you see any monstrous animals roaming the woods that night?" Jack thought about it with bent brows and pursed lips. But he shook his head. With sagging shoulders Merida nodded and touched her hand to her heart. She did not see how Eleanor could have escaped the attack. But then there was Juri.

"I am exhausted," Merida murmured. "I want all the bodies buried. My father would have been buried with his people."

"The wind can't lift all of them, Merida," whispered Jack, but Merida pointed towards the swamp. "Is that too far?" Jack shook his head. One by one the bodies were lifted and placed beside the water. When Merida squinted she could see a great loch in the distance, and her heart sang for it. But it was far. "Help me dig," muttered Merida. Jack nodded and called to the wind again, while Merida dug into the soft swamp dirt with her hands. Soon every body was buried beneath a thin layer of soil. There were not enough stones to cover all of the graves. So Merida covered her father's and Juri's mother's. "I wish I could find Maudie's." she murmured. The remaining stones were settled equally amongst all of the graves. As the living mourned beside, their feet sinking into the swamp dirt surrounding, Jack's brows furrowed and he tapped his toes.

"I did see one, actually," the boy murmured. Merida stood silent beside him. Though he was melancholy he chuckled. "I've been around for awhile, and in all the time I've roamed these parts I never saw one till now."

"What are you talking about?" sighed Merida. The sun was again hidden behind the clouds, while a glimmer of the moon's crescent still lay present, far off at the tip of the skyline. Merida could feel the dead air of the grave mound against her body, and its stench lingered on the tips of her hair. Only a second had passed since Merida's question. Time drew on invariably and she wrung her fingers. Then Jack responded.

"A bear."