TW: Snow..I hate it.

Title: ~Snow~

"Nano, come on!" Lomadia called.

“It’s too early,” Nano whined, dragging her feet exaggeratedly. “Let me go back to sleep…”

“We said we were going to work on the farm today, remember?” Lomadia reminded her with an apologetic smile.

“Ugh, fine,” Nano muttered sourly. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Nano, this is the sixth ‘tomorrow’! We’re doing it today, and that’s that.”

“But Lomadiaaa,” the reluctant girl whined, dragging out her friend’s name, “It’s freezing out.”

“It’s winter, Nano,” Lomadia said with a laugh. “Of course it’s cold.”

Nano grabbed her beige cloak from its peg by the door, and wrapped it around herself. She appreciatively buried her nose in the fur lining Lomadia had added to the collar just recently.

“Why are we farming in the winter, anyway?” She grumbled, grabbing Lomadia’s coat from the hook before the other could reach it. She threw it at the owl girl, who caught it, laughing at Nano’s scowl.

“It just works,” Lomadia told her with a shrug and a smile. “Don’t ask me why.”

“Why does it work?” Nano demanded immediately, though she put up no protest as Lomaida ushered her out of the door. The taller just laughed in response, sliding her hand into Nano’s as the gravel path crunched beneath their feet.

“Why does it never snow?” Nano asked quietly.

Lomadia laughed again, bringing a smile to Nano’s face. “Don’t ask me how the world works,” she chided the black-haired girl beside her. “You’re making me feel like an idiot.”

“Good,” Nano parried with a grin.

Lomadia paused to push open the low farm gate. “Why do you ask, anyway?” She said. “Do you like snow?”

Nano’s eyes lit up as she inhaled sharply. “Oh my god, yes! It’s like the best thing in the world,” she said. “I love it!”

Lomadia laughed. “Let’s hope it snows, then.” A stern, steely glint came into her eyes. “And until then, we’re going to be doing equal work. You hear me, Nano? Equal.”

“But you do it all better than I can,” Nano whined.

“Practice makes perfect!” Lomadia chimed, her footsteps quickening as a laugh bubbled at her lips. “Come on, let’s go!”

Nano, still grumbling, followed her down the path and to their little farm made of all sorts of different cross and magic plants.

“Your turn to do the mandrakes,” Lomadia reminded her with a teasing grin.

Nano’s groan filled the frosty morning, making the owl girl beside her giggle. She slumped over, finally facing the task of farming in the frigid air.

Lomadia spent the day switching between doing her tasks, and making sure Nano did hers.

At about noon, when Nano was complaining about repairing the fence, Lomadia told her they might as well get rid of the penguins if they couldn’t keep them in an enclosure. That, thankfully, kept her quiet and busy for another hour or so.

But, when the skies began to darken, Nano came dramatically staggering across the field, letting herself slump into Lomadia’s arms.

“Lom,” she whined, “I’m hungry.”

Lomadia laughed. She tilted to the side slightly, letting the tiny Nano lean heavily against her side. “I guess we can be done for the day, then.”

“Yes!” In an instant, the fluxed girl leapt up with a sudden burst of energy, fist-pumping the air.

“If you have that much energy, you can cook,” Lomadia giggled.

Nano limp, stumbling back into Lomadia’s arms. “On second thought,” she mumbled in an imitation of sleepiness, “I think we should sleep.”

“Okay,” the owl girl agreed, smothering a laugh. “I’ll cook for one, then.”

Nano opened her eyes just enough to give Lomadia a death glare, but let herself be picked up and carried back home. Lomadia set her gently down on the edge of their bed, and headed for the kitchen, still grinning to herself.

They ate, and then Nano really did go to sleep. Lomadia, however, rose quietly from the sprawling mess of sheets and limbs and padded off into the house. She managed to find the small forgotten ladder that led to the attic; they’d buried it under bookcases and all sorts of things.

The first thing that Lomadia noticed in the attic was the strong smell of dust. It clouded the air and made her want to sneeze.

Digging into a colllapsed pile of books sent up billowing puffs of dust, which the owl girl impatiently waved away.

Searching the bookshelves didn’t reveal the book she was looking for. Frustrated, Lomadia hunted down the spell book she knew was somewhere up here - she just couldn’t find it.

Finally, the owl girl pulled a small red leather bound book from beneath a pile of loose papers. Thumbing through it, she saw notes and diagrams in her own distinctive scrawl, each detailing spells and rituals.

In the drawers of an old cherry wood desk pushed in the corner, Lomadia found a small pouch.

Opening it revealed colored chalks, some on fire, a few covered in ice.

Lomadia pulled a frost-coated blue chalk from the bag. After a moment’s hesitation, she put it back and tied the small bag to her belt. With the book and bag, she descended the ladder going up to the attic.

She slipped on her fur-lined coat, quietly pushing open the door. The night air was cold and stung her face, but she ignored it.

With fingers already going numb, Lomadia fumbled for the frosty chalk. She pulled it from the bag and hastily flipped through the book, searching for the spell she very vaguely remembered.

Drawing all of the lines took another hour; she couldn’t feel her face, her hands, nor her feet. When, at last, the circle was done, she bit her thumb as hard as she could, and drew an “x” in the center.

The red color of her blood was a sharp contrast to the pale blue chalked lines, but as long as it was hidden by morning, Lomadia didn’t mind.

Trusting the magic she’d learned long ago, the owl girl hid the bag and book in her bedside table, waiting for morning.

Of course, that was the one morning Nano woke up first.

“Look, Lom!” She squeaked, barely containing her excitement as she hurriedly shook the owl girl’s shoulders.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Lomadia muttered blurrily, pushing Nano away as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

“It snowed!” Nano yelled, her eyes alight with happiness. She dragged a dazed and somewhat-startled Lomadia to the window, grinning broadly.

“Nice,” Lomadia muttered, thankful the heavy snow had covered the circle. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“You can’t do that!” The fluxed girl protested loudly. “It’s New Year’s Day!”

Lomadia kissed Nano lightly on the cheek as she sank into the sheets again. “Happy New Year, ano,” she mumbled as she let sleep overtake her once more.