“She’s almost here.” Roz nudged Bri awake. Bri crawled out of her arctic-grade sleepbag, yawned and looked around. “Where? I don’t see anything.”
Sipping coffee, Roz pointed pole-ward into the glittering, frosted expanse. “Look for a tiny motion of red and black out there— that’s all we’ll see for a while, since the dogsled’s at trotting pace, more or less.”
“Good thing she’s got santa clothes on, or I’d never have spotted her.” Bri squinted a little. “What d’you make it — ten minutes out?”
“Ten or less.”
“Good! Only ten or less more in this frozen wilderness. Well, plus the time it takes to get outa here. Where’s my cuppa? Sister, but that was a long first watch.”
“Coffee-pot’s in the coals.” Roz nodded toward the sparky little circle of rocks from last night’s signal-fire.
“Bless you, my child,” Bri said fervently. “Oh, good, enough for the others, too. They’ll sure be glad of it. Hey, what kind of a name is Snowite, anyway?”
“Same kind as Manhattanite, I guess. They live there, she lives here.”
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