Glaciana walked through Tanglewood at dusk, her bare feet leaving silver prints on the moss. Behind her, a tree bloomed with ice. Its bark turned pale. Long icicles dripped from its branches and glowed. She paused to touch the crystal at her throat. She wanted a mortal to keep. She did not fully know why. She only knew the want would not leave her. A small fox stepped from the brush. Its fur shimmered pink and blue. It watched her with steady eyes, the way a creature watches something it already understands. Glaciana knelt. "You sense it," she said. "You sense who could love me." The fox turned its head toward the deeper woods. She followed. The fox led her past a tree she remembered. Its bark hung in torn strips. Its branches twisted at wrong angles, black and dry. A mortal had stood beneath it once. He had almost let her close. He had not survived the trying. Glaciana stopped at the ruined tree and pressed her palm to its trunk. Frost spread from her fingers, then stopped. She had wandered too briefly among mortals. She had not stayed long enough to learn which heart could hold her cold. The crystal at her throat pulsed once, patient. The fox waited at the edge of the clearing. It lifted one paw and pointed deeper in. Glaciana straightened. She would not wander short this time. She would stay among them until she found the one who could bear her kiss. She stepped past the dead tree and followed the fox into the dark.