The grass crunches beneath their feet when they trek across the frosty field up to the hill. When they reach the old apple tree at the top they can see the familiar house not too far off. She wonders who lives there now, thinks briefly of that wardrobe, of snow up to her knees and fur coats, of the four of them all bickering and achingly young. Susan shakes her head and dismisses the thought, the dream. The snowfall had been disappointing the winter they'd lived here - barely enough for a decent snowman. "Looks smaller than I remember it," Peter says. Susan shrugs. "I think that happens when you grow up."
Snippet from my new fic when they don't come back - a sequel to my fic where Peter returns to Narnia in The Last Battle
