That Saturday was the sort of day that prompted the townspeople to comment, "The Snow Queen must be upset." Some had made wreaths of paper flowers to place upon the sculpture's neck after brushing the frost from her shoulders.
Yeva would normally take Rozie with her into town, but even the windows of their modest house threatened to shatter from the cold. Having chopped additional wood and prepared the cart, Yeva came to Rozie's room and found her near the stove.
"Are we going today, Yeva?"
"No, Rozie. I want you to stay here."
Rozie didn't contradict her.
"I've stocked the pantry for you, and there's plenty of firewood if you need more. In the event of an emergency, what should you do?"
"Contact the neighbors?"
"Yes," Yeva lingered. "You'll be good, won't you?"
Rozie tilted her head and bent her lips, asking, "Why don't you just stay here? It's so awful outside…"
"If I stay here I can't buy you birthday gifts."
"Gifts? You mean more than one?" Rozie wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and buried her face into her coat. "Thank you!"
Yeva patted Rozie's head and ventured into the cold.
Where she would have normally carried out the chairs and tables, she left them in the shed and brought Ivan to town. Despite the frigid air, he moved quickly between the empty cart and a fortunate lack of wind. No disarming breeze blew by, and snow fell straight downward as Ivan's hooves crunched the frost beneath them. The scene blurred white with faraway mountains blanketed beneath a solid grey sky.
Town stood as still, with the Snow Queen the only one out in such temperatures. Her sharp features had dulled a bit beneath the accumulating snow, which Yeva stole a glance at before parking Ivan and running into the store.
The coins in her purse chimed as her feet left prints in the town's virginal snow.
The rabbit still sat in the window, despite falling slightly to one side. Her pose resembled the lean someone would take after waiting a long time on a friend, collapsing over one side of a chair, black button eyes gleaming with the question, 'Oh, won't someone buy me?' Having dressed so beautifully and styled her fur in such a way, her offence was entirely reasonable.
The door actually opened and a bell went off above Yeva's head.
The shopkeeper regarded her with wide eyes.
"I'm glad you're here." Yeva cleaned the snow from her boots by stamping them on the mat. She approached the counter. "My sister desperately wants the rabbit in the window."
"I remember you two from last week. Well, from every week." She grinned as Yeva counted her coins. "Does your father send you both out with that furniture?"
"No," Yeva placed the correct amount in her hands. "My father is dead. I build the furniture and bring my sister with me."
"Oh," the woman blanched. "I'm so sorry."
"Why? You're not the first person to assume I don't make it myself."
"No, that was insensitive of me." She finally accepted the money. "I'll take seven for the rabbit. You came all the way here on this awful day." She placed three pieces back.
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"You're welcome." The shopkeeper took the rabbit by one arm, tossing her onto the counter. "I thought about closing today because I was almost certain no one would come, but I had a feeling." Without asking, she pulled a long piece of wrapping paper from a compartment under the counter. Red and glistening, it complemented the rabbit's gown as it covered from her long ears to her lucky feet. "Just be careful on your way back. It's the Snow Queen's anniversary today."
To the sound of string being cut, Yeva said, "She doesn't seem so bad."
The shopkeeper lifted her brows, surrendering the rabbit wrapped finely in red. "Well, thank you for coming. I hope your sister enjoys the doll."
"She will. Thank you."
Yeva ventured outside, where the wind had picked up slightly.
Most of the townspeople had boarded themselves away in their homes, huddled around fireplaces whose glow illuminated their windows. Punctuating the snow with her boots, she followed the market around in a circle, the weather growing worse with every closed door she met. Closed signs left out overnight told her to keep moving, until Yeva had found the stationery store open and stopped in to buy Rozie a notebook for school.
She selected a floral printed book and paid three pieces for it, receiving a look from the clerk in the process. "Be careful out there," he said. "The Snow Queen's going to be upset tonight."
Yeva sighed and took her bag and rabbit to Ivan.
She patted him on the flank and set the gifts into the cart. A bit of snow had built up in the back, which she brushed away for the rabbit's sake, and took her seat.
For a moment, Yeva looked back, where the Snow Queen stood facing her. The sky had grown greyer, and places on the ground Yeva marked had refilled, like someone had taken crumbs from the table by sweeping a cloth across it.
Relaxing her eyes, she caught the faint silhouette of something in the distance, shaped like a column of ice. An identical structure stood to the right of it, forming the entrance of a castle. Yeva gasped and searched for more, but above the pillar were only clouds pregnant with a hail storm. In looking a little too long, the shape of it began to dissipate. The clouds fogged the background and left the Snow Queen staring directly at her.
Yeva shook her head and took hold of Ivan's reigns. Pointed toward home, the clock tower usually waited in the distance, surrounded by the few houses in their town, but Yeva found nothing but the shapeshifting body of a storm. The wind picked up and blew into her eyes, shutting them as the temperature dropped and the cold found entrances within her coat, drawing its brutal hands over every expanse of skin.
The path that normally led between the town and city had also been covered by unrelenting snow. Even in winter, there were usually footprints, hoof prints, wheel marks, something, but like whiting out a mistake, everything had become blank. The wind blew frost over any colorful landmark, until all that remained were the nondescript forms of frozen trees.
Yeva's mouth and nose bled breath as she said, "It wasn't this bad this morning."
A moment later, as if receiving an answer, something cracked in the distance, the sound of a tree falling. Ivan cried out and sped up, prompting Yeva to grasp the reigns as he galloped.
"Ivan, stop!"
But Ivan wasn't in a state of reason, and kept running until hitting a heavy dip. He threw Yeva from the cart and into a tree, and escaping as she lay there. The flakes showered over her while the white world turned black.