ohidere

Merry Christmas, @indigocatastrophe!  I’m your Secret Santa for the Strange Magic exchange.

‘If we die, it’s your fault.’

Bog paused in blowing on his hands to squint at Marianne.  ‘How d’you figure that?  This was yer brilliant idea.’

She huffed and continued rubbing her arms.  ‘Yeah, but if you hadn’t been reminiscing about the ice forts you built as a kid, I never would have had the idea in the first place.  Therefore, it’s your fault.’

‘Ah was perfectly happy inside, where it’s warm, drinkin’ hot chocolate an’ watchin’ every version of A Christmas Carol known t’man.  Y’know, what any sane person does at this time o’ year.  But noooo.  You had t’go all Elsa on me an’ insist on buildin’ yer ice palace.’

‘How was I supposed to know there’d be a cave-in?  You’re the architect, not me!’

Bog sniffed and stuffed his hands into his armpits.  ‘Snow is not generally recognized as a buildin’ material.  Unless it’s an igloo.  Or one o’ those ice hotels.  In which case there would still be hot chocolate.  An’ we’d pay a ridiculous amount o’ money t’freeze t’death, instead o’ this weird murder/suicide thing you’ve got goin’ on.’

Marianne snickered.  ‘Oh, Boggy—’

‘Bog.  Only yer sister calls me Boggy.’

‘That’s ’cause you’re scare of her.’

‘Yes.  Yes, Ah am.’  He felt no shame in admitting it.  For someone who was essentially sunshine personified, Dawn could be terrifying.

Marianne smiled angelically.  ‘Anyway, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t use an ice fort to do it.’

‘An’ now you scare me, too.’

‘Aw, you say the sweetest things.’  She patted his cheek with one chilly hand.