A Hard Winter's Night

Chapter One: First Snow

Linda rolled over in her bed, feeling the edge of conscious slip to the forefront. In a few minutes her alarm would go off, she could feel it--and the spell would be broken.

Just a few more minutes, she pleaded to herself. Her eyelids were still heavy and not quite ready to open and face the day. Last night did not give her the sleep she was promised and still bitter from the betrayal.

Part of her wanted to think it was the time change, but there was a whisper in the wind that made her spine tense. It felt crazy or maybe it was stress just creeping in, but something had her 'spidey-senses' tingling.

Her thoughts jolted as the alarm began to sound off. The vibration of the clock rattling the nightstand. Reaching out she expertly tapped the snooze button, silencing the blaring immediately. With eyes still closed, she slipped back under the warm comforter and tried to let sleep take her again. Hell, 10 minutes was ten minutes. No sooner than she snuggled up in her covers, Linda felt the cold, wet nose of Comrade against her cheek. Trying to play possum, she laid still, thinking he would move on, but she knew better. She rolled over, turning her face from him, her lips curling into a soft smile as she heard him gently whine and move to the other side of the bed. Comrade put his two front paws on the bed and stretch to lick her face. Her plan of possum was failing miserably and Linda crinkled her face as Comrade assaulted her sleepy face with dog kisses. His hot canine breath fanning her face.

Chortling, she pushed his face away. "Morning. Morning Comrade. Thanks, I get it. I'm up." She sighed and finally opened her eyes to see him wagging his tail, his front paws still on the bed as he watched her. Linda leaned over and rubbed between his ears. "Where's the Terror? Did you even bother to go harass her, or did you come straight to me, hmm?" Comrade only savored the rub and panted as she asked him about Sandra. Linda sat up, realizing sleep time was officially over. "You're not gonna make us breakfast? It's kinda your turn. It's kinda been your turn for several years now." Comrade tilted his head in confusion as she spoke to him. Linda shook her head. Typical male reaction, she thought. What she wouldn't give to sleep in and have breakfast made already. It was a decadent fantasy that rode high on her pleasure list. Right up there with a self-cleaning home and a sexy bath time with Ryan Gosling."Nevermind." She clicked her teeth. "Go wake up the Terror."

Understanding the command, Comrade got down and trotted out of the room. Peeling the covers off of her, she shivered as the cool air rushed on her body. Looking to the window, she saw the faint clusters of snow on the window seal. She smiled. This was her favorite time of the year. Adding to the joy in the thought, Linda turned to the doorway as she heard the giggling of Sandra in her room. Comrade must've successfully got the little terror up. She seemed to respond better to him waking her up anyway. Most of the time, Sandra looked so cute and peaceful, Linda would feel guilty disturbing her. Oh, how many times Sandra was late to school because her mother was too guilty to wake her up? Too many to count. Thinking about the past of waking Sandra up, trailed to a closed memory of Greg. He used to scorn Linda for being too soft with her.

Some mornings he would beat on her door like a cop, warning her to be on her feet in five minutes. She remembered the time she first addressed him about it and had to console a weeping Sandra, who was frightened by Greg's aggression.

"She's a six year old girl, Greg. You don't need to treat her like a convict."

Greg had cast her a menacing frown. Humans treated their children like toys and he never understood why. Probably a good reason their species was so submissive. "You're too weak with that girl, Lin. There's no excuse to coddle her like a little doll. She needs to learn to do as she's told and obey her elders."

Wringing her hands, she stared up at him. The sound of Sandra's sniffling through the door making her skin crawl. "She's a good kid."

Greg had scoffed at her shaky defense."No. She's spoiled. All she does is cry and whine." He cut his eyes back to Linda with scrutiny. "Just like her mother when things get too tough."