The Snow Queen

[Gashrock]

Being a grown beast meant that one picked up on subtleties. Any kit could hear "It's time for dinner now" and scramble to be fed, but it took maturity to understand "I say, the sun's gettin' a bit in my eyes, and those supplies are awfully heavy, don't you think" and appreciate the nuance of the invitation.

Fortunately for Gashrock, despite her size, she was very much a grown beast. And when Blackbriar casually happened to mention Wrexholm the Warlord, who had led his threadbare army through the frigid mountains during dismal days and windcursed nights with little food and scarcer drink, relying on their good spirits to make up for their absence of savory spirits, and even going so far as to play the fool--literally--in a one-act play that boosted their morale, she knew how to take the hint. Just so long as it wasn't Istvan's sort of morals that needed boosting, a short play would certainly be the thing to stir the hearts of her comrades.

It was easy enough to take stock of their resources. Too easy. It was herself, and Poko, and Cookie. No Dewhurst to boss them around, to pick something all wrong for the season, or that would only rely on their mastery of props or quick changes of clothes.

No. There had been no body to mourn for, and Gashrock wouldn't waste tears. It was time to see what she could do on her own.

Something appropriate, something that could mock the snow, something that would only need three actors, and a few props. No sense recruiting their "captain" to participate, unless Cookie could do it for her. Maybe Cookie could get the owl to donate a few spare feathers to the cause? If they could rig them up from an altitude, that would lend a sort of ambiance to a couple scenes...

As they walked along, she fell back with Cookie and Poko. Well, that was stretching things a bit. She stayed to the back, and waved Poko and Cookie alongside.

"Right, then," said Gashrock. "Blackbriar says she'd like us to put on a play."

"An' you're listenin' to her?" said Cookie.

"If we can impress her, why not? Better her than a ruddy old bird and a couple of otters, innit."

"So what are we going to do?" Poko asked. "We don't have anything."

"That's all right, I've thought it out. Lemme know what you think." They plodded along, Gashrock trying not to look down at her leg or the snow. Just staring into space, quietly whispering the plotline so as not to give anything away to passers-by.

"This is my very original script, which I only play-jerized just a little bit.

We start off with a brother and sister named Hans and Greta. They are definitely not father and daughter, on account of I don't want Poko to break down and break the fourth wall. I dunno exactly what that is. But it's bad luck to break it, so.

Hans and Greta live with their grandmother, who is very old and infirm, and is so sick that she does not come down from the rooms upstairs, and so they are always yellin' up to her and she ain't callin' back, on account of there ain't any more actors. Unless I climb upstairs an' hide only I don't wanna do that.

So there they are, and Hans is nice to his sister, only what he wants is a nice silver bow, innit, for shootin' beasts. So they're playin', and he only goes and finds a silver arrow! Except there's no bow with it.

And then he's all sulky, and he don't want to play with the little kids no more. And so one day he finds the snow lady, which is me, and I'm wearin' a ruddy old fur coat, on account of it's cold. And so I says to him, "oy, you have my arrow," and he says "aye," and I says "I've got a whole arse-nal of those, back in my palace," and off he comes with me.

Then Greta is sad, and her grandmum thinks Hans got drownded, but she won't believe none of it, so off she goes tryin' to find him. And she treks around, and keeps lookin' up and talkin' to sparras and crows and owt, and they're like the grandmum bein' all high-up, only on account of them bein' birds, not infirm or anything like that.

So she follows the birds, and sure enough she comes to find the castle. And she pokes around the arrows and owt, and finds Hans, and hugs him a bit, and suddenly he can think straight again. But he nicks a silver bow, afore they head out, so there's that.

And I forget how it ends so we'll make summat up. We should have songs and Hans showin' off his strength. There's a bit about how they ain't kits no more, when they get back, but I'm not puttin' that in on account of Hans is already big, so that wouldn't make sense. And I forget what the point is about bein' big compared to little, bein' little's more of a lark iffen yer asks me. And not just about rats bein' small. Anyway that's the play, only there's not a script on account of I ain't got no paper. Any questions?"

The ferrets blinked at her for a moment before Poko asked, "If you ain't got no paper, how're we gonna memorize it?"

"Oh, you just, make it up as you go. It's like tellin' stories. I'll be crawled up somewhere yellin' at you most of the time, so just follow along with my lead."

"Who's the snow lady? Some kind of hypnotist?"

"A hip-notice?" Gashrock repeated. "Nah, she's just a lady."

"Well is she bad?"

"Aye, she is. On account of, she's got...too many arrows? Or summat. Iffen we had more beasts I'd've put in more scenes with her, but...ah, we make do."

"How do they defeat her, then?"

"When Greta hugs Hans or owt, it snaps his arrow in two, and then...maybe she's out, doin' business, and they just run away? I dunno, I'll write in a little fight. Beasts like fights. Only yer not fightin' in this scene, on account of you don't know what you're at."

"Hold on a tick. Do you have any silver arrows?" asked Cookie. "I ain't usin' any of this jewelry to make nothin' silver."

"That I have to work on, yet," said Gashrock. "I'll ask Blackbriar, she might be helpful." Although the weapon that the pine marten kept sheathed seemed to be more of a close-range tool, now that she thought of it. Oh well. It was worth a shot. As it were.

She panted as she rushed up ahead, her leg slowly throbbing as she caught up to Blackbriar. "Oy there!"

"Yes?" Zevka turned.

"Do you have any...bow and arrows lyin' around? Or d'you know who might?"

Zevka squinted. "What do you think you're gonna shoot at?"

"Nothin'! It's for the play, innit."

"What play?"

"The one we're goin' to put on. I ain't no Wrexholm, but I know my part. And iffen I don't know my part, why, I write myself a new part."

"I don't know what you're babbling on about."

"You said you wanted to be like Wrexholm! Makin' his own ruddy theater in the snowbanks!"

"I said I wanted to go to a proper theater. And have damson wine and little playthings at the ready, all of the nice luxuries of villages."

"You--don't want a play?"

"In the middle of this?" Zevka spread her arm wide. "You'd have to be mad."

Gashrock stood still, waiting for the ferrets to catch up with her, thoughts crumbling like the snow.