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Araneae Nivalis

“So, what are we looking for again?”

She glanced toward me with an exasperated sigh, the breath fogging up her glasses where they peeked over her scarf. She didn’t seem to notice it.

“We’re looking for snow spiders,” she said. “It’s very important.”

“You haven’t told me why we’re looking for them, though.”

“It’s because I need him to love me.”

“Oh.” I ducked my head down. “So, you’re really doing it?”

“Of course I am.” She turned around fully this time, mittened hands on her hips and brown curls poking from under her pom-pom hat. “He’s perfect. I can’t let her take him away again.” She frowned at me through her scarf. “So keep your eyes open. There’s got to be at least one around here.”

“Hn.” She fixed me with a hard look and whirled around, stalking away across the clearing. I watched her go.

I do keep my eyes open. That’s why I know he’s not perfect. Not for you. Beside me, a web of frost and silk caught the winter sunlight.

“Did you find anything?” she called.

I turned my head away. “No.”

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