Jane and Gunther are 4 years older from this story on. Just imagine Jane with longer hair and a more womanly figure (hehe) and Gunther taller and BUFF (hehehe). That's how they are in my mind, but you can picture them however you want.

Disclaimer: I do not own Jane and the Dragon or any of the wonderful characters. They all belong to Martin Baynton.

Snow

Sir Gunther Breech of Kippernium, teeth chattering from the frost, went to rest on his small hammock in the knights quarters, curled up to keep warm on a cold, snowy, winter's eve. The young knight absolutely dreaded cold and snow. Across the room, a red-headed lady knight stared out a window into the night, mesmerised by the blackened sky dotted with flecks of stars and snowflakes. She folded her arms across the stone sill, resting her chin atop her knuckles.

"It is so beautiful..." she whispered to herself, a small smile making its way across her face.

Gunther shook his head in annoyance. "No..." he grumbled. "It is cold! Cold and miserable..."

Jane whipped around to glare at him, her long waves of hair spinning wildly as she turned. "How is it that you are bothered by the chill! You are covered by two blankets!"

"Two very thin blankets! I will catch a death of cold in this blasted tower!" he complained.

Jane giggled at him. He had grown into the appearance of a man, still he was a whinning boy at heart. "You buscuit-weevil... Knights must always be prepared for the worst of conditions." She strode to his cot. "I would hardly call a little snow something as dreadful as what we may face in the future."

Gunther rolled his eyes. "Well I say we cross that bridge once we come to it. At the moment I am frozen and tired. Goodnight."

Jane groaned shaking her head at his huddled form. "Goodnight..."