The wood is sleek, soft almost, and buffed so thoroughly that she can see her reflection. Black satin paint sets off the bronzy stain of the wood, and the white rosemaling detail on the hood is crisp and clean; it stands against the dark like snowflakes in candlelight, which is an apt sort of tribute, when you consider how they'd met.

"Can I try it out?" She asks the clerk, who is standing in the corner with crossed arms and watching with amused eyes as she prowls through his inventory. He nods, so she clambers in.

No cushion has been added to the seat, yet it's still comfortable - the set of the backrest is neither too upright nor to reclined, but eased just enough that she can imagine Kristoff sitting there, one arm slung over her shoulders and the other holding the reigns, relaxed and smiling.

She closes her eyes, stretches out her feet (plenty of room there, good, good) and tries for a moment to remember how it felt to be sliding over snow, to feel invisible shards of ice pelting her cheeks and the smell of water and pine and burning oil from the lamp in her nose.

"We like to go fast," he'd said, meaning, she thinks now, to scare her. It hadn't worked at all clearly, because maybe Kristoff didn't know then (but hopefully now) that she likes fast: on her bike, sliding down the banister, galloping her horse to make the stablemen gasp.

The thing about sleigh rides is not that it gets you from place to place, but the thrill, and to have the thrill you have to go faster than anything: you have lift your hands and stand, you have to take off your hat and let the air rush through your hair and ears so that your eyes water and sting, you have to imagine that you could leap up and take off like a bird because that is pretty much the closest thing to flying that she can imagine.

So, sure, it will haul ice and the paint will get scuffed and the back dirty and be all…business ice stuff. But hopefully Kristoff will like it too, because it's a sled, and a fast one, and maybe, just maybe (because he pretends to be so practical but there's magic and mischief in him too) they'll go flying together.

She opens her eyes, turns to the clerk.

"I'll take this one. And do you know where I can get a bow?"