“Bitch, please. You try and run in snowshoes.” She gives an adorably indignant snort. “Then we can talk about who’s sweating and who’s not.” “This bitch will be happy to take you for a bath, then.” A startled giggle bursts out of her, and my sac tightens in response. I am filled with longing for her. “Oh my god, that’s so cute. You called yourself bitch.” “Should I not? You called me bitch.” I move to the front of the cave to grab a bowlful of snow to toss onto the fire. “Bitch is insulting, but lovingly so.” Brooke chuckles. “Humans have strange language.” I ignore the way my heart hammers at
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