A farmer went into the woods for firewood—but he found something chilling encased in ice.

The sky was the kind of heavy gray that warned of an impending storm. The weatherman’s voice echoed in his mind: “A significant snowfall is expected across Pine Hollow tonight. Bundle up, folks—it’s going to be a cold one.”

After breakfast, Henry slipped into his thickest coat, gloves, and boots, bracing himself against the biting cold. The wind howled faintly outside, a reminder of the storm brewing on the horizon. He stepped out onto the frozen ground, his breath forming misty clouds in the crisp air.