Pippa's POV

It's hard being the youngest of five siblings. When all four of your older siblings have done great things, you have to get used to people giving you expecting looks, hoping you'll be great too.

But I don't see how I can. I am not noble like Teddy, kind like Hazel, compassionate like Quinn, or brave like Hermes. I'm just a sporty platypus with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder who trains as hard as she can but will never live up to her siblings.

I mean, Teddy's actually managed to become OWCA's fifth top agent, knocking Pinky the Chihuahua out of the space. Hazel's mission is legendary, mostly because it was a mission that should have lasted several months but she cracked it in a few days and helped OWCA win a gunfight on a cruise ship in the middle of an ocean. Quinn is the best field medic anyone could ever ask for, with a case success rate that is literally just as high as OWCA's doctor, Apollo's. Hermes has superpowers, enough said.

What can one platypus do when she has not one but FOUR bars set for her?

…

The jogging track is my favourite sports facility in OWCA. The gym's always quite crowded, but the outdoor track is very new and not as popular because it's cold outside. But platypuses have insulating coats for when they swim in cold water, so I'm fine. That's what I'm doing right now, actually.

I've run six laps already, had a break, and now I'm in the middle of my tenth lap. It is quite cold but it doesn't bother me. It isn't raining or snowing, and those are the only things that matter.

However, when I just finish my tenth lap, I realise that it has begun snowing. Sighing, I head over to the stands, where I left my stuff, and put on the black beanie hat that my parents gave me for my birthday last year. It immediately warms my whole head. As the snow falls faster, I run inside OWCA and take a moment to warm up next to the heater by the door.

"Hey Pippa," says my father's friend, Patty, who is sitting on a chair nearby, reading a magazine. "Cold?"

"Yeah," I grin, taking off my hat and placing it on the radiator. "It's snowing."

"Oh that's nice." Patty peers outside. "The first snow of the winter."

"Hey, have you seen my parents?" I ask.

"They're in Priya's office."

"Thanks."

I head up to the office floor. On my way, I see many familiar faces. Most of them don't like me. My ADHD makes me fidgety and sometimes loud. Both qualities are basically condemned here. Mostly because I can babble about nothing in particular and everyone finds me annoying, including my own siblings. But it's fine, really. I find them annoying too. It's not like I wanted older siblings who would look out for me and help me and love me. It's not like I get hurt by their dismissal of my ideas just because I'm younger than them and only four years old and an ADHD-affected Basic Trainee. I'm fine.

I find my parents where Patty said they would be. "It's snowing!" I announce, bursting into the office.

Mom is sitting on Dad's desk, and Dad himself is sitting in his chair. Both their faces momentarily drop when they see me, which I don't miss. But then they smile. "Is it?" Mom asks indulgently. "Is that why you came in early?"

"Yeah," I say grumpily, tapping my feet restlessly as if listening to a catchy song. "I do twelve laps every day but I only got to ten because it started snowing and I don't want to run in the snow. I was considering it but the other day Berry the Rabbit said she ran in the snow once and by the time she had done one lap, her nose, whiskers, and ears were freezing and had icicles hanging off them. I don't really like being cold like that. I don't mind being chilly, like running outside in winter, but I don't like running in the snow unless I'm purposefully outside to have fun, like making a snowman or playing or throwing snowballs." I stop talking earlier than I was planning to at the pained look Mom and Dad exchange. I take a deep breath and say, more slowly, "Speaking of which, is it okay if I skip training this afternoon and play in the snow?"

Mom and Dad exchange another look before Dad nods. "I don't see why not," he says. "Just make sure you wrap up warm and come in if it gets too cold."

"I know, Dad," I say. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

I give them a smile and skip towards the exit. As I leave, I hear Mom whisper, "Should we send Pinky to keep an eye on her?"

I stop just outside the door and hear Dad's hushed reply: "Yes, let's. In case she decides to run off like usual."

I feel a sting in my chest but I raise my head and run to get bundled up. After I reunite myself with my hat, scarf, and gloves, I run outside into the snow. Nobody else is out there so I spend a glorious hour building four snowmen in a line.

Then I spend a further hour building a massive pile of snowballs. Seeing as I'm arguably too old to play in the snow for the fun of it, I decide to do some target practise. I fetch a tennis ball machine from the sporting area and set it up, pointing into the air. I load my tight snowballs into the machine and put it on random fire. I head back to my large pile of snowballs, pick one up, and wait. As soon as the machine spits the first one high into the sky, I aim and throw my own snowball, which hits the fired one, causing both of them to explode in a pile of snow.

I carry this on for at least fifteen minutes before I realise that Pinky the Chihuahua is sitting on a chair a little way away from me, watching me. This angers me. Mom and Dad treat me like a little kid! I'm four years old! I'm not a little child anymore, I'm a BT. I can't possibly hope to become an OWCA agent if my ADHD means that my parents are always going to view me as a little child.

So, in a fit of anger, I lob one of my snowballs at Pinky. I hadn't meant for it to hit him, but in this case one of my greatest strengths (amazing accuracy) becomes a weakness. The snowball hits him in the head and knocks him off the chair. I immediately feel bad but I have no time to apologise before he stumbles to his feet and runs inside.

I run.