Out in the woods, she marveled at the trees. They seemed bathed in stardust, glittering coldly in the moonlight. Each step she took crunched through a thin layer of ice that covered everything in sight. It was a perfect night for this. She'd been waiting for a moment when the Earth felt otherworldly. And now, here she was, deep in the woods, a clean line of footprints marking her passage. At the foot of a sparkling oak, large with age, a freshly broken limb betraying the weight of all that glitter, she stopped, stooped and placed her offering. Turning, she began retracing her steps which disappeared behind her.