Winters wish. (Jack Frost x Reader)

The air in the Tooth Palace crackled with an unusual tension. Not the usual joyful buzz of miniature fairies flitting about with collected treasures, but a hushed, anxious energy. Y/N, perched precariously on a high railing, swung her legs, humming a sea shanty under her breath. Her usually bright eyes were clouded with a hint of concern, a stark contrast to the lively chatter that had filled the palace just moments before.
Below, North paced, his booming voice uncharacteristically subdued. Tooth flitted restlessly, her usually meticulous collection efforts momentarily forgotten. Even the stoic Bunny shifted his weight, his ears twitching with unease. Sandy, ever observant, floated silently, his dream sand swirling with troubled images.
Then, a sudden, jarring sound cut through the silence—a distant, guttural roar that seemed to echo from the very depths of the earth. A chill, unlike any winter breeze, swept through the palace, extinguishing some of the sparkling lights and leaving a lingering scent of dread. Y/N's hum died on her lips, her gaze fixed on the suddenly dimming chamber. Something was very, very wrong.
