Twelve
It’s cold in Canada, but it’s a different kind of cold than on Inchbrach. The air here is drier and the cold doesn’t creep into your bones as much. There’s not as much wind here, either.
A thick layer of snow covers the ground. In this moment, I’m incredibly grateful that I don’t feel the cold as much anymore as when I was still human. My new clothes are warm, but in the midst of the Canadian winter, they wouldn’t be enough to keep me warm for more than an hour.
I watch as my breath turns into little cloudlings. Yes, I’m trying to avoid reality by not looking at my surroundings. My brain is needing a moment to get used to the idea that we just jumped from Scotland to Canada via a mysterious place in the middle.
I’ve never been outside Britain before. This morning, I didn’t think
