M. When it rains/snows/storms.
It hardly snowed anymore in St. Louis. When it did, it came down in a powder that melted within a day. Hardly suitable for the name ‘snow’.
Chicago received it’s yearly average of snow as if nothing had changed.
Henrietta woke up one November to six inches of white and the resulting shriek of joy woke up the entire hive. For a moment, she hardly cared, throwing her shoes and a winter coat over her pajamas as she rushed outside.
For a moment, it seemed like the entire world comprised of the snow covered block and her, as if the rest of the planet had floated away. Henrietta went wild, whooping as she kicked up patches of snow, her hands numb as she scooped it up to throw in the air, watching it fall.
Turning her head at the right time, Henrietta spotted Fee in the open doorway, Scout clinging to the woman’s leg. “Mom it snowed!” Henrietta shouted, breathless from her fun. Fee replied with with hoarse mumblings about snow shovels, smiling all the same.
An invitation to play in the snow was met with squealing and the sound of laughter. Snowballs were swiftly made and thrown, snow angels scattered the ground as if the heavens had evicted its residents and an army of snowmen were swiftly built.
For a moment, Henrietta felt like a child all over again, almost as if the hive had always been home. Fee had always been ‘Mom’ and red eyes meant family.
For a moment, there was nothing to worry about. No Dandies or Punks to fight, no bodies to be identified and buried, no frustrated growling from an overworked Alpha.
For a moment, there was nothing more to the world than them and a snow covered street.
