”No…… You can’t be Jack Frost— he’s… he’s just a myth, a piece of fiction used to explain the weather, like Zeus.”
[But even as she spoke, Riley found herself not believing her own words, staring at him with a shocked expression on her face.]
❝Would any old myth be able to do this?❞
[—-And just like that, he’s off. Taking the girl along with him, of course. Any ordinary idiot can play a magic trick to wow an audience. The thing is, Jack’s much greater than a man who pulls a rabbit from his hat. He’s Old Man Winter, himself; a legend who wields frost at his finger tips and bends the wind to his will. The only way for her to believe is by experiencing. Skating by his side upon a lake that’s surface solidifies at his touch, breathing in the whipping slap of brisk air which can only be generated by his currents, and cling to his frigid wrist that could easily be mistaken as a cold-blooded animal’s.]
❝Woo hoo!❞
[He cheers, continuing to slide patterns of zig-zags and swirls across his brand new ice rink.]
