Jack's been out spreading icy mischief about the forest, any exposed water is adorned in a crunchy glaze, every frond and leaf languishing in the frosty shade is dusted like a chilly doughnut and still his shivery breath fills the hollows, piercing any exposed skin. The forest's cold, I know, it should be, it's winter, and the addition of a northerly wind ensures you really feel it. Even a increasingly determined sun lends little relief, though any momentary relief is welcomed and embraced, no matter how weak or fleeting. Lovely walking mind.
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