Edit: Anybody else interested in breaking down their style? Feel free to provide a snippet(not a link) so we can have a go at it 
Original text: Hello, everyone. Here is a snippet from my novel's prologue. I would like to break it down together and figure out what I'm exactly doing so that I can do it--or stop doing it depending on my preferences in style.
There was an unnamed forest in one of the fragments of Dunaye, a dying world. Here, pine trees rustled and creaked in the cold wind. Birds with nowhere to go shivered among the branches. Deers and rabbits grazed what roots they could find, for the grass was a relic of the past in the snowy meadow right in the middle of all this. And in this meadow, was an egg. A giant, golden egg had been here since a light drop fell out the eye of Psetha, the sun and the soul of this world. The creatures were used to it by now and paid little mind to it. Or at least, that was the case until that day.
That day, the egg hatched, making all forest creatures scatter away, and a boy emerged from it. He removed his dark, wet hair from his face and blinked around with golden eyes full of life.
“Hello?” he called, with a voice that cracked from being used for the first time. A voice that sounded innocent.
A voice that sounded deceivingly weak.
The creatures were unsure of what to do, and they held their breath, waiting for someone else to take that first step towards the boy who was trembling now because the rejection hurt.
He took a step forward and, tangled in his own umbilical cord, fell face-first into the snow.
The cold hurt, too.
He started crying, curled up where he lay. He wailed, sniffled, and hiccupped through his pain, and the hidden creatures only listened.
One of them, however, was quite fed up with all of this, and so she called out to the boy, “Hello, young one.”
The boy stopped crying immediately, and his head whipped up to look at the red fox who was sitting where the meadow merged with the pine trees. The wind howled, and she waited. The boy wiped his tears and snot away and smiled at her with a mouth full of milk teeth.
“Hello, mom,” he said, and the red fox shook her head, surprised.
“Oh, no, I’m not your mother.”
“You-you’re not?”
