The World Looks Glorious in the Snow

Chapter 7: "the world looks glorious in the snow"

At a distance, snow looked fluffy. Up close, snow looked glittery. And under her feet, with every tentative step, thin snow was crunchier than the autumn leaves. In fact, leaves were too often not crunchy at all, but limp and flat, and occasionally soggy from the rain. So why were autumn leaves more often described as crunchy than snow?

Lumine figured that with so much crunching snow everywhere, it would be impossible to sneak up on anyone. Yet here she was, leaping like a startled cat every time he magically appeared behind her. It didn't matter what he did once he was there—grab her shoulders, tickle her waist, whisper flirtatious comments in the creepiest manner possible—every time she would hop out of her skin, and every time he would roll with that stupid cackle of his.

"I really am going to murder you this time," she threatened after his third offense.

"Oh, come on, let me have some fun! You're so cute when you get mad."

Lumine jogged forward towards Cassandra. She had fallen into a cycle of walking near the front of the group with Cassie, then falling behind every time Childe assaulted her, then hurrying back up again to get away from him. "Ugh, Cass, save me," she croaked when she reached the read-headed woman's side.

"Can't. Once he's set on a target, he will stop at nothing until he's satisfied."

"Why me?"

"He likes you."

"Ya think?"

"I know."

"Hey Girlie. Hold still."

Lumine whirled around and shot him her best hateful glare. "Do I need to smack you?"

"Maybe."

"Joke's on you," Cassie whispered into her ear. "He's into that."

"Okay, both of you, dead by tomorrow."

The siblings laughed.

Not long ago, she was walking down a path in the woods after sharing an unexpected moment with her enemy. Now, she was walking down another path with that same enemy, as well as Cass, Tonia, Anthon, Teucer, and Paimon. As soon as she and Childe had returned to the house, Childe decided that today he would make a big dinner, and everyone else was going to help him. Soon, he had wrestled his siblings into their coats, shoved them out the door, and started towards the town.

In the main town, the snow had been shoveled out of the roads and pushed to the sides in brown, sloshy heaps. Only a bumpy layer of ice remained, the snow that had been compressed at the bottom and was too hard to scrape away. Lumine was grateful for her borrowed snow boots, or else she would surely have slipped on the glassy surface. The ground was much more brown than white, which Lumine found a little disappointing. The snow on the roofs, however, was pristine: thousands of tiny diamonds, all collected in plush blankets coating the slanted surfaces, and dripping down the edges in dozens of beautiful yet unforgiving crystal stalactites. Despite the snow, the air was not brutally cold, and the sun shone a brilliant yellow upon the village. Lumine felt quite comfortable in her coat, and she could have even stood to take it off.

Childe led the group to the village market. Countless scents floated through the air, but the most prominent was the unmistakable odor of fish—understandable, considering the town's location. The gingers waved at passerby's, exchanging a word of gossip here and there, smiling at each other like old friends would. Lumine knew it well: the small town atmosphere. She had been to countless small villages during her travels, and every time, no matter how diverse the culture, every town always had that tight-knit sense of family that was hard to find elsewhere. Everybody was friends with everybody, and they all knew everything about everyone. Lumine supposed that was the reason for the whispers, the backward steps, the sideways glances as Childe passed by. His smiles and gestures did little to ease the tension; the townsfolk were so well-informed that he could have dropped his facade without a single glimmer of shock from his peers.