There was snow in the air that day. It fell thick and fast, coating the ground in a mesmerising crystal blanket as the two girls ran down the meadow to the frozen lake at the foot of the hill. Their dresses dragged in the snow; one matching the pure untainted white, and the other like a spot of ink on an otherwise empty manuscript. Finally reaching the shore, they fell onto the ground, rolling around till you could no longer tell what was child and what was snow. Laughing uncontrollably, the honey-haired girl reached over to the icy mirror that was once a lake and plucked out a single white swan’s feather.
“Here,” she announced as she handed it to her sister. “It’s for you.” The other girl smiled as she threaded it gently onto the chain around her neck.
“I’ll always be there for you,” she continued as they began to dance around the lake, darting in and out of the trees like the flakes of snow around them.
“I know,” the girl in black whispered as she gently fingered the soft strands of the gift. “I know.”