Eirlys, the Winter Fairy, swung her dainty feet to the floor and scrubbed autumn sleep from her eyes. A sleep well earned, she thought, recalling how she had spent the previous day flitting through the forest, ensuring that the last animals were secure in their dens, that those birds who should have flown south were away, that the deciduous leaves were shed, that the coniferous cones were buried beneath decaying leaves, and that only cloudberries remained on stems awaiting her picking.