56. Snow
"What is it, Ata?" asks little Itarillë, pulling her violet cloak close about her and glancing nervously up at the white substance falling steadily from the dark sky onto the ice around them. She shivers, and Turukáno stoops to lift her onto his back.
"Snow, dearest one," he answers softly, "Have you not seen it before, atop Taniquetil?"
He does not see the confusion that clouds her visage at this response, but her mother does. The Vanya smiles to herself at her daughter's adorable naïveté.
"But, Ata," declares Itarille, "that snow did not bite like this."
Had Helcaraxë ears, it would laugh.
