In the forest Briar lives in, every season comes and goes.
Spring is usually her favorite. It’s the time where everything is growing, everything is reborn; it makes her happy to see the forest burst back to life, to see the animals reemerge after hiding from the harsh, bitter cold of winter.
Summer, while she still enjoys it, is not particularly fascinating. It’s a very lazy time in the forest; even the air feels like a warm blanket. If anything, summer seems a little unsettling to her.
Briar considers autumn beautiful, with it golden leaves and cooler air. The only downside is the fact that this season preludes winter, her least favorite.
In winter, everything seems very dead to her. There’s no birds singing, hardly any animals wandering in the thick snow; if not for the festivities that come around winter, Briar would’ve outright hated winter.