Kate slowly climbed uphill. Dragging a battered old sled behind her in the snow. She wore little, despite the nip in the air. Just sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a winter coat.
Kate, after all, harbored an unusual affinity for the cold.
Each breath sent a pleasant white puff, like a cluster of downy feathers, slipping along her face. Her lips and ears felt numb, they were stiff and unfeeling as plastic. Her lungs felt at ease, breathing was simpler, less rough, in the cold winter air.
Her hands were dancing with pins and needles. Giving her heart a thumping thrill, more exciting then anything else in her lonely town. She grinned. Her front teeth and gums felt like chips of ice itself, icy and shocking in her mouth.
A few small clumps of snow had slid into her boots, jolts of the chill clambered up her spine.
Kate shivered and tossed her head back. Letting a soft laugh fill the silence. It echoed, she always felt like cold air carried sound better.
A short trek latter, and Kate was at the top of the hill. Looking down, she saw it slide slowly off until sparse pine trees broke up the peaceful white canvas. She dropped the sled and slid down, into the familiar comfort of the peaceful cold.
