A winters morning is the most unlikely time to be out in the afternoon. With news of a blizzard hitting, most were inside sipping coffee, sighing from the comfortable warmth, and giving hardly a thought that anyone would be crazy enough to go outdoors.

They were wrong.

For out there in the cold wind of the north, far across the frozen lake, shivering under her red winter coat and white stocking hat, was a young girl. Her name was not important, for no one knew it. Nor was her age, for no one could say. Although many tried to guess, she never denied nor confirmed these assumptions. She was a stranger, nothing more or less.

The girl steadily marched onward, tucking her hands in her pockets and looking down at the ice. It was a marvel she did not slip several times, for the ice was smooth and hard as glass. But she kept moving, sliding her feet across the ice, eyes turned to her feet as she frowned.

He should be here. He usually came about this time.

For years she had waited for a perfect storm, the time that ice would be frozen enough to cross. Every day, she longed for the blizzard, the storm that would aid her to the end

For out of summer she was taken, and out of winter she will return.

She blew on her hands to warm them. Although the cold was a welcoming feeling, pain of frostbite was not. Her hair blew into her face, sprinkled with snow. Her jacket did little against the wailing wind, and her boots were not made for the slick ice. Yet the girl pressed on. Hoping, waiting for a sign of her—

The ice cracked, she froze.

Icy veins ran through the solid waters, spreading from the area her foot had been placed. Her heart skipped, and the pleasant feeling of fear sent a rush to her head. The girl smiled, and took another step. The lake continued crack and creak under her feet, deep blue waters rushing below. Promising a watery grave. The wind and storm raged around her, trying everything in their power to make the girl in the red coat turn around

‘_Run child, leave.’ _They whispered softly in her ear.

But it was not the voice she wanted to hear. For the sound of the waters carried another one, one ringing from the cracks and shattering of the ice. A haunting voice she had missed.

“_Come to me..find me below”_

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Soon she stopped, in the middle of the lake. Surrounded by splitting ice, standing over the deep blue of a lake, the girl stopped.

And the storm gave up.

Silence was a haunting sound, one that took her breath away. But it was not the only thing..

For right in front of her, was the one she was looking for. The older man stood calmly on the ice, not bothering with warm clothing. In only a black jacket and pants, his white beard caked with frost. A smile on his face as shown by the crinkle in his eyes. Leaning on the staff in his hands, He spoke gruffly, but was soft.

“Well..lets go home, My daughter.”

The girl grinned, and the ice broke.

For the Daughter of the North Wind had returned. Her spirit above with her father, and her body below with the water..