“I swear, bucko, I don’t know how you do it,” Saffron said. Her coat was pulled up to her ears and she was still shivering. The continent of Lycus, being well-known for its extreme cold, was not her favorite place in the world. The town of Evren, where she currently was, had no shortage of stores selling and trading in fur, but that was of little comfort to Saffron, who tended to breaking out sneezing any time fur came near her face.
“It’s a craft, Saffy! Just like any other. Practice, practice, practice, and then you’ll be good at it before you know it!” Bell dabbed a small dot of paint onto her canvas as she looked out over the field in front of them. The snow, fresh from the night before, was pure white and undisturbed, and when Bell woke up that morning and saw it, she knew she had to paint the contrast of the snow against the strikingly blue sky. Her name was actually, as a matter of fact, Snowbelle, but as she lived in Lycus and found the name a little too on-the-nose, she just went by Bell.
Saffron rubbed her forehead. “Not… not the painting. I mean the cold. How do you put up with it?”
“Hah! I should ask you the same thing!” Bell grinned and made a few precise swipes with her brush. “You’re from the Dola Islands. I’m pretty sure I’d melt the minute I set foot there! Especially if I was wearing that coat you’ve always got on!”
“Yeah, well.” Saffron exhaled. She was fond of Bell, but holding an extended conversation with someone who could enunciate exclamation points like Bell could tended to be tiring. “There’s a reason I moved away, you know.”
“The heat? Was it the heat? I bet it was the heat!”
Saffron fell quiet for a moment, flipping through several memories - the people she left behind in Dola. Eventually, she was left with the mental image of him. “You know what? Yeah, bucko, it was the heat. Got it in one.”