In the heart of the whispering woods, where birch trees stand like guardians of ancient secrets, a family of foxes lingered amidst the snowy hush. The air was crisp, alive with the faint murmur of winter mysteries being carried on the breeze. A cardinal darted between the branches, its scarlet feathers ablaze against the pale canvas. Here, amidst the rustling whispers, the woods seemed alive, weaving their silent magic around those who paused to listen.

I like to create two-page scenes so they look cohesive printed in a book. I usually put the story opposite the main page, but in this case, the story worked out better on the main page under the wordart.