All things must die and she provides their endings. When the time comes, she crushes the soft petals of blooming flowers and infects them with decay. She breathes frost into their green veins and watches them wither under the weight of her ice. Everything dies and she is the end. She is the winter whiteness and the chill of the December darkness. Her beauty is black, her touch fatal. And she is necessary, for without her to remind us of it, life would not be truly appeciated. She is death, yet she gives life wings. She is Morana, the Goddess of Death and Winter.