At the beginning of time she had waited. There, at the birth of the sun and the stars, she had sat and stared. She had watched them explode before her eyes, she had felt the heat on her skin despite the cold at the back of her skull. The frozen earth hadn’t bothered her.
She had watched the beginning of history. How many days had she waited? How many weeks? Months? Years? She had waited for centuries, decades, lifetimes. She had thawed and frozen with the ebb and flow of time, watched the earth die and rise again. She had bided her time, waiting for the kiss that would thaw her self-imposed ice age.