Page 7 of A Winter Admire

Edwin entered his cabin and closed the door. He removed his winter gear, lit a fire in the wood stove, and rubbed his hands together. The warmth slowly seeped back into his bones.

Odara was right: the nights were so very long now. He went to his rucksack and pulled out his notebook. He opened it and gazed at today’s sketches.

Edwin had always liked to draw the forests and mountains growing up. When he’d moved to Bordertown, after his shifts at the pub serving tables, he’d often sit in his room drawing the wilderness from memory. One day, he’d been talking to Loran, a regular at the pub, who had asked him about the Norend Mountains and seemed genuinely interested. It turned out she was a botanist.

She’d been the first person Edwin had connected with. Loran had convinced him to study botany as her apprentice. It had been the first time he’d found something he’d truly liked in the city. He’d enjoyed reading about the plants throughout the kingdoms, looking at pictures and reading their descriptions.

Still, it hadn’t been enough. Even though he’d loved studying botany, he’d still missed the peace and quiet of the village, the forests, and the mountains. And studying plants from all over the kingdoms had made him yearn for the flora of his home.

His family definitely didn’t understand that. They thought he was being ridiculous and weird. In the end, they’d almost seemed relieved when Edwin had told them he wanted to return to Ores. His father had said that some people just weren’t “suited for the fast-paced life of a city.” What he’d meant was that Edwin was too dull and boring for it.

Something soft tickled his foot. Edwin jumped.

ChapterSix

“Snowflake, you startled me!” Edwin said as he leaned down to scratch the head of his half-blind snow-white rabbit. Snowflake leaned into the pat and then licked his fingers. Edwin rubbed behind her ears. “Did you miss me?”

Edwin walked over to the crate by the door, grabbed some hay and dried herbs, and placed them on the floor. Snowflake hopped over and immediately began to nibble on her food, mouth moving quickly as she chewed.

He’d found Snowflake, a wild rabbit, in early spring.

Newly returned to the village, he spotted the rabbit in the forest. She sat huddled by the trunk of a tree, her ear torn and covered in dried blood. One eye had scabbed over. The rabbit didn’t run as he approached, nor protest when he picked her up. That alarmed Edwin. He’d often seen rabbits in the forest, but they always ran away when he came near.

Concerned, Edwin carried her to Ores. He took her straight to the village doctor, who looked at Edwin with confusion at being presented with a rabbit.

“I treat humans, not rabbits,” Taten said. “You could make a decent stew with it.”

Edwin shook his head. “Can’t you do anything?” The rabbit was so small and all alone in the world. He didn’t want her to die.

She sighed. “Take her to your cabin, feed her, and put some water in a bowl for her to drink. Maybe try to clean her up a bit.” She looked at the rabbit in his arms. “I don’t like her chances, but you can try.”

Edwin took the rabbit back to his cabin and fed her, constantly watching over her. Initially, the rabbit kept a wide berth of him, only coming out from under the bed for the hay, vegetables, and greens that Edwin put out.

But the rabbit had gradually gotten better, and eventually Snowflake had gotten used to him. Now she was his constant companion. His only companion.

Edwin walked over to the bookshelf and selectedA Guide to Plants in Norend. He took the heavy tome down. He lit a candle and sat at his desk, flicking through the pages.

He picked up his notebook again and opened it, reading over his scrawling notes above the sketches.The root from the firasen tree can be made into a salve that will reduce swelling and bruises, something the oreads taught the villagers.

Snowflake finished eating, hopped over towards him, and lay down, leaning against his socked foot. He reached down to give her a scratch before continuing to read.

After a while, he looked up and stared out the window above his desk. It was not late in the day, but at this time of year, darkness had already descended. He could only just see the white snow on the ground beyond his windows.

This year would be the first year he would celebrate Solstice alone. An ache started in his chest, and despite the warmth of his cabin, he felt cold.

Standing, and careful of the rabbit asleep by his foot, he went back to his rucksack and pulled out the letter from his mother. He made his way to the leather chair by the stove. He grabbed his favourite knitted blanket, made years ago by his sister, to curl under. Tara was a milliner now. He wondered if she looked down upon the knitted gifts she’d made over the years. He doubted they’d measure up to what was fashionable in Bordertown.

Did I make the right decision coming back? Maybe I should have put in more of an effort to fit in. Maybe if I’d just tried harder, I’d have been happy.

He reread the letter he had received from his mother, gaze tracing the words. He should respond, but he didn’t know what to write.

I’m alone. It’s cold. Happy Solstice.

He set the letter on the side table next to the chair, along with the others from his mother and sister, and stared at the light of the candle.

Perhaps he should write to Oscar again. Other than his family and his mentor, Oscar was his only correspondent. He’d met the half-dryad professor in Bordertown. Oscar studied nymph and human interactions throughout the different kingdoms.

Edwin had described the history of the oreads and humans in Ores and told Oscar how they’d once lived together.