Liana and the Breath of Snow

The snow began as they crossed the upper square.

Not a storm. Not an emergency. Just fine dry flakes moving sideways between the buildings.

Liana, Bram and Pela were helping Maer Talla carry folded cloth from the weaving hall to the storehouse. It was a short village errand with warm rooms at both ends.

At first the snow made everyone laugh.

Pela tried to catch flakes on her sleeve.

Bram walked faster so the wind pushed white lines past his shoulders.

Liana held her bundle against her chest and watched the square disappear slightly at the edges.

They reached the storehouse, stacked the cloth and went back.

“Three more trips,” Talla said.

“Two if we carry more,” Bram replied.

He reached for a larger bundle.

Talla looked at him. “Can you carry it without blocking your view of the ground?”

Bram lowered it a little.

“No.”

“Then three trips.”

On the second crossing, the snow stung Liana’s cheeks. It melted on the dark cloth and left tiny wet spots. Pela stopped trying to catch flakes.

Bram still walked fastest.

At the storehouse door he stamped both feet hard.

“Cold?” Liana asked.

“No.”

He rubbed his hands together.

Liana looked at his hands.

Bram followed her gaze.

“Cold hands are not the same as being cold.”

“That sounds like something you are saying because you want it to be true.”

“It can still be true.”

Talla opened the door.

“Both of you can continue this debate inside.”

The warm air smelled of wood, wool and the dry cedar blocks kept between stored cloths.

Pela leaned against a shelf while Talla counted bundles.

“You all right?” Talla asked her.

Pela nodded.

Then she shook her head.

“Too much talking.”

Nobody asked whether she meant the weather, the carrying or Bram and Liana arguing about hands.

Talla simply said, “All right.”

They walked back to the weaving hall mostly quietly.

By the third trip, nobody was laughing much.

The wind had strengthened. Snow ran low across the paving stones. Bram kept rubbing his hands together. Pela had stopped talking completely.

Talla looked at the remaining bundles.

“One more trip?”

Bram nodded immediately.

Liana did not.

She looked across the square at the small rest room beside the communal kitchen. A yellow lamp glowed behind its window.

“We could stop there first.”

Bram frowned. “We are nearly finished.”

“That is not the same as being ready for another trip.”

“I am ready.”

He picked up a bundle and nearly dropped one corner.

He caught it against his knee.

Nobody said anything for a moment.

Bram put the bundle down again.

“Maybe five minutes.”

Pela pointed toward the rest room without speaking.

They went in.

The room was small and almost empty: two benches, a low stove, hooks for wet outer layers and a jug of warm water. Someone had left a basket of clean cloths on the shelf for drying hands.

Talla poured water.

Pela sat by the wall and closed her eyes.

Bram stood beside the stove.

Liana sat on the floor because the bench felt too upright.

Nobody announced that rest was the lesson of the afternoon.

For several minutes they did nothing useful at all.

Bram drank.

Pela breathed slowly with her eyes closed.

Liana listened to the snow scratch against the window.

Then Bram said, “My hands hurt now that they are warming up.”

Talla nodded. “Tell me if that does not ease.”

Pela opened one eye.

“You said you were not cold.”

Bram looked offended.

“I was wrong in stages.”

That made Pela laugh once, then close her eyes again.

After five minutes, Talla did not stand and say the break was over.

She asked, “What do you each want to do?”

Bram flexed his hands.

“Finish, but smaller bundle.”

Pela sat up.

“I can finish if nobody talks at me while we cross.”

Talla looked at Liana.

Liana checked her body instead of choosing the answer she thought the story wanted.

Her feet were warm again. Her shoulders felt less tight. The wind outside had dropped slightly.

“I want to finish.”

Talla looked through the window.

“The visibility is still good enough for the square route. We go slower. If the wind rises again, we turn back.”

They agreed.

The last trip felt different from the first three.

Bram carried the smallest bundle without pretending it did not matter.

Pela walked at the side, quiet by request.

Liana carried one medium stack.

Talla stayed close enough to watch the route without hurrying anyone.

Halfway across the square, Pela stopped to adjust her scarf.

Nobody hurried her.

Bram took two steps, realised she had stopped and waited without being asked.

Snow collected on the top of his bundle.

“This is ruining my heroic final crossing,” he said.

Pela pointed at him.

“No talking at me.”

“Sorry.”

They continued.

At the storehouse, Bram put down the final bundle.

“We would have finished sooner without the stop,” he said.

“Probably,” Liana replied.

He waited.

“And?”

“And we finished after the stop.”

Bram considered that, then laughed.

Talla checked the cloth stacks and closed the storehouse door.

On the walk back, they passed the rest room again.

Bram slowed near it.

“Another five minutes?” he asked.

Pela shook her head.

“I want the weaving hall.”

Liana did too.

They kept walking.

The room had been useful because they had needed it then. It did not become a compulsory stop simply because it had helped once.

Later that evening the snow continued, but the wind fell away. Liana walked home through the same square. The rest-room lamp still glowed.

A delivery worker sat inside drinking water. Someone else passed the door without entering.

Liana paused outside long enough to notice what she wanted.

She was warm.

Her feet felt steady.

The quiet street ahead looked pleasant.

She did not go in.

She kept moving.

The next morning Bram met her near the weaving hall.

“I have developed a theory,” he said.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Rest is good.”

“Sometimes.”

“See? You ruin every simple rule.”

Liana smiled.

“Yesterday you needed five minutes. Pela needed quiet. I needed the floor. Then we all needed to continue.”

Bram considered this.

“So the rule is complicated.”

“The rule might be to check.”

He looked at his hands.

“Warm today.”

“Useful information.”

They went inside.

The snow had left the square white and bright, but the work of yesterday was finished. Nothing had been lost by stopping long enough to make the final trip workable.