After a while, the sunlight warmed her enough to cast aside the covers. The cool air tickled at the skin not covered by her silken night gown. Outside, she could hear the early songs of the birds and the clatter of wagons on distant cobblestone roads. With a lazy reluctance, the blonde finally slid herself out of bed. A creature of habit, Snow pulled the sheets tight and began making the bed. Pillows fluffed, sheets tucked, and comforter smoothed, she drudged into the kitchen for a light breakfast.
Lockne, her familiar, opened several of its eyes. The little mimic about the size of a jewe