Light hiked up the mountain. He’d never learned how to walk properly on all fours. It was easier to use his two longer limbs. His knee was a little scratched where he’d tripped and landed on a stone. His knees were always covered in scabs. Never did a day go by without getting injured somewhere.

Today, he told himself, he would get to the top. He’d made a bet with his brother that he really would and once he got there he was going to plant his axe somewhere they could all see it. His axe was on his back, held by a pouch woven in bear hairs. The cool end of the flit on his back gave him comfort.

This mountain was mostly made of stone. A series of snow topped trees resided on the peak. The chimera from his tribe had a hard time with this specific mountain. Rocks spiked out at almost every angle. Only a small thing like Light could snake between the porcupine sides of the mountain.

Once he got to the top Light wondered where he would plant his axe. The idea of chopping the trees had come to mind but he didn’t want to waste his time. He wasn’t sure if his axe could hold its ground. He was working on making better axes. Thus far any attempt at deforestation led to the flit getting embedded in the trees.

His cheeks burned, all the trees he’d ever tried cutting had marks of flint in their bark.

“I’ll show them trees one day,” Light promised.

Light weaved through the spikes without a problem. He’d been doing this for hours now. His stomach howled. He jumped, whipped around, eyes bouncing back and forth between prickling stone wedges, afraid something was following him. His stomach made another hungry noise.

He glanced down at his belly. “You scared me!”

Light shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be a scaredy cat. He had gotten farther than ever before. He could even see bits of green reflecting on the rocks overhead.

“Almost there!”

The excitement of getting to the top was greater than his desire to fuel his stomach. He ran down the path. It grew narrower and narrower until he could no longer fit through. Light’s brows pushed together in perplexity. Thus far he’d encountered spaces between which he’d had to crawl, roll, hop and walk.

Before him now was a space that he couldn’t possible crawl through. He tried dropping on all fours. He was too high.

Crouching further, Light dropped down to his elbows. He forced himself between the stone crevice, scuffing his forehead and grazing his elbows.

“I can do this!” His whisper echoed through the fissure.

He flattened his arms above his head and did as he’d seen the Vantry do. He used his nails as claws and wriggled his body through. Light bit down on his lip when cuts opened along his arms. He moved slowly through the tight space. It was dark, damp and his heart was beating sharply in his ears. He wiggled continuously until that speck of light grew larger and larger. When his fingers first touched the icy snow he could hardly contain the cheer from bursting through his body.

He squirmed out and lay flat on the snow. His hot and sticky body took pleasure in melting the crisp snow. He would have stayed there longer if the ice didn’t scratch into his cuts. Light climbed to his feet.

Around him were the trees he remembered looking up at. He was finally here! A huge grin ripped across his face, touching from ear to ear.

“I made it! I made it!”

His feet stomped, splashing flurries of snow in all directions. Light celebrated by climbing on top of the narrow space he’d climbed under. He wanted a good view of the world below. Light walked to the end of the plateau and sat down. His legs dangled off the side of the precipice.

He could only see clouds from where he was. Being on top of the world did nothing to dispel the clouds. He was stuck here in the unmoving mist. He made a face. He’d originally planned to wave at everyone who was waiting for him down below.

No matter. He crawled back to the mountain.

“Where should I put my axe?” He ruffled his tangled blonde hair. “Where will everyone see it?”

He had to solve this puzzle if he wanted to prove he’d reached the top.

The excitement bubbling inside him was slowly cooling down. Light shivered. Little hilly bumps were sitting on his arms. He ran his hands over his arms and opted to wander the mountain.

It was quiet. Mist hung still and dead. He could see through the curtains of vapour. The hairs on the back of his neck were next to rise. Instinct told him he wasn’t alone.

He spotted a figure. Before it looked his way, Light took shelter behind a pine tree. It was hardly enough to hide him but the figure wasn’t looking his way.

Light grew perplexed. What he saw wasn’t a chimera but a human child.

“Mr. Snow, I looked everywhere but I didn’t find a carrot. What will we do about your nose?” The creature asked putting a hand on her head.

“Are you sure there are no carrots?” She drawled for Mr. Snow.

“Yes, Mr. Snow, I looked everywhere!”

“Oh no! What will I do now?”

“Don’t worry Mr. Snow, I have an idea. Let’s use this for your nose.” She pulled a colourful sweet from her pocket and stuck on the snowman’s nose.

“OMG, I love it, I love my new nose. Thank you so much. Hafsa, you’re such a good friend.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Snow.”

The playdate ended and Hafsa rubbed her hands together. Her gloves were sitting on the tips of Mr. Snow’s wooden fingers. Her fingers were turning purple.

“Mr. Snow, do you mind if I take those gloves?”

“Go ahead.”

She took the gloves and fit her frozen fingers in.

Hafsa pulled her scarf closer and pressed the gloves over her ears. It was growing bitterly cold. The tip of her nose was a popsicle. She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. A fat snowflake landed on her forehead. She flinched in surprise and brushed it away.

“Look Mr. Snow, it’s snowing!” Hafsa was delighted. She held out a hand, catching a chunky flurry.

“I’m going to make you a snow family, Mr. Snow.”

Hafsa squat beside the snowman. Gathering as much now as she could into her arms, she tried turning the mass of snow into a round shape.

A shadow fell over her.

“What are you doing?”

Hafsa glanced up and saw a boy near to her own age. Her eyes widened just as much as gaped. She took in his delicate features. He looked like something from a Japanese comic book. His blonde fringe was tinted red. Her gaze rested on the cut on his forehead. She paused what she was doing and got up.

“You’re hurt!” She stuffed one hand into a pocket, rummaged around as if it were not a pocket but a large bag she was searching, eventually pulling out a Baby Shark plaster. Using one hand she pushed his hair out of his forehead and tutted as she’d often seen her mother do at injuries.

“Hold your hair for me.”

Light wanted to ask why but the command was too stern. He didn’t want to cross this creature. He was wary of what she might be.

Hafsa neatly applied the plaster. She grinned at her handiwork.

“There, all better.”

Light dropped his hand.

“Wanna build a snow family?”

No reply. The boy’s expression was as stiff as paper. She picked up a fistful of snow.

“Com’on,” she said, handing him a snowball. “It’ll be fun.”

Light held the wet, cold slush in his fingers wondering why it was there. Hafsa provided no instructions. She began to gather and mould snow. He might have mimicked her had the snow not been too cold to grasp and the weight of the axe stopped reminding him of his task.

He shivered under his leather tunic and trousers. His bare arms were now feeling the impact of the falling snow. His toes froze in their fur and leather cubbies. Light hugged himself, rubbing his arms in vain.

“Are you cold?” Hafsa inquired of him. “How come you’re out in the snow without your jacket?”

Light didn’t know either. He’d neither been provided with a jacket nor an explanation of what a jacket actually was. The concern on Hafsa’s face told him a jacket might’ve been something important. She approached him now, dragging her legs through the settled snow.

“I’ll give you my scarf since I have a jacket and a hat.”

She unwound the long bit of fabric from around her neck. She put this scarf around him.

“It’s warm,” said he.