Leaving Robin to cope with bath time and stories, she inhaled deeply, holding the frigid air inside until it seemed her lungs would burst. Releasing her breath, feeling cleansed, she started out, intent on reaching the stream before the cold forced her to turn back.

Cassie tucked her gloved hands deep into her pockets and strode across the clearing to the edge of the forest. Ethereal in the moonlight, her image reflected her name, Cassiopeia. Half grounded in the earth, half flying amid the stars, her reality was somewhere in the middle and a bit of both. Right now, however, she craved a bit of solitude and a break from the earthbound reality of high energy children trapped in too little space for too many days on end.

The night was crystal clear and still, lit by a nearly full moon. The bare tree branches above her head painted intricate lacy shadows beneath her booted feet. That particular squeak from the snow as she walked was a gift of Boreas, a way to measure the depth of the cold. It reminded her that her time outside would have to be short.

She allowed her thoughts to drift as she wove her way between the trees, a mixed wood of slender birch, broad oak and stately fir. Only a few weeks had passed since the solstice, so winter would hold them in her grasp for weeks yet. Cassie sighed. This was shaping up to be a long winter.

A hoarse yelp off to her right broke into her reverie. Curious, Cassie veered off toward the road a hundred yards away. Another bark and then another, more hopeful than the first, urged her to hurry.

“Hey, girl, whatcha doing here?” Cassie voice was soothing as she squatted down and held out a hand to be sniffed. “What’s the matter? How’d you wind up here?” Her tail thumped gently on the snow. “Can you get up? Are you hurt, my little friend?”

Thoughts of the stream quickly vanished as Cassie assessed the scene. The bitch was cold, that was clear, but why was she lying there? She had been there for a while it seemed. The afternoon’s snow had covered over any tracks which might have given her a clue as to what had brought her to this place. Cassie began to rub her hand along the bitch’s tawny back. When she reached the soft, furry side, she felt movement within. A muscle knotted beneath her fingers and a moan escape the canine mouth.

“Why, you’re about to have puppies,” Cassie marveled. “Easy, mama. I’m here with you. But surely this isn’t a very good place for a birth. How about we see if I can take you home?”

Cassie was winded and sweating despite the cold by the time she had carried her burden to the house. As she maneuvered up the porch steps, Robin opened the door.

“I was getting worried. You’d been out too long in this cold.” Looking more closely, he examined the bundle she was carrying. “So what is it you’ve brought home this time?” Robin sighed.

“Don’t start on me! I couldn’t leave her out in the cold to whelp. The pups wouldn’t survive and she might not have either.”

“Easy now. I’m not complaining. I just thought you’d gone out because the walls were closing in on you and I didn’t figure we needed another dog to trip over.” They’d had the “dog discussion” for months now and Cassie knew his opinions well.

Several hours later, warm and finished with her labor, two small puppies completed the scene in front of the hearth. Cassie snuggled into Robin’s arms on the couch. Small though it was, as Cassie thought what it would have been like to give birth on the snow, her heart filled with gratitude for the walls which surrounded her, the same walls she had escaped from so desperately a few hours before. A sense of contentment and
serenity replaced her earlier querulousness. Her children were safe, warm and asleep, Robin by her side. As though reading her mind, Robin said softly, “I suppose we could call her Winter’s Treasure.