Description
Creeping ice roots slithered down from trees like an army of spindly monsters.
Vines rose from the dead grass and wrapped themselves around anyone caught by their thorns.
Their tendrils wound around stone, their roots and vines sliding along the forest floor as if on ice, creating a sticky mess.
With all of their extremities stinging, she closed her eyes.
No matter what happened, she would always be safe.
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