The Forest Is Changing Again

A glittering trail of pearly moonlit snow leads you through the pines which tower over your head. The air around you smells cold and invigorating, leaving only a hint of pine and the damp freshness of the snow. You fall into an easy rhythm of walking when you are not really aware of how much time has passed. After a while of going gently downwards from the top of the hill, the path evens out. But when you're facing the way you started once again, there's now a wooden post painted red with a rectangular sign on top. It reads, platform one in elegant gold script.

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