In a world of white on white, she sensed before she saw the shape of antlers.

"Sol?" She calls out softly, uncertain and then blinked as she went breathless and speechless in awe. As the great shaggy head turned, revealing not her stag friend but a large and regal, King Stag. Misty breath wafted from his nostrils as he stood still. And then a ear twitched. Before he turned and gracefully started walking unafraid toward another part of the wood she carefully and cautiously followed padding softly as she could.

****

Some time later.. She spotted something.. gleaming , there we're Grecian in style, golden type arrow heads. They seemed to resonate with her, and even with her gloves were warm to the touch. Something about them seemed familiar.

She glanced up to see she was beneath a laurel tree. 

More unusual, she didn't always bring things back with her, but one of the arrow heads was in her fist when she did, sunlight dappleing on her check through the curtains.