Snow

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Josephine flopped back in the snow, waving her arms and her legs. "This is kind of fun!"

"What are you doing?" Sebastian said, looking down at his cousin with a bemused look on his face.

"I'm making snow angels," Josephine said, standing up carefully. "Oh, aw. I forgot about all of the blood on my feathers."

Sebastian took in the imprint in the snow where Josephine had been laying, and the stamp of goldish-green blood where her wings had stamped the ice and frost. "That's probably not as pretty as you thought it would be."

"Not at all," she said with a pout. "Damn."

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