Lessons were boring. They weren't even letting him use magic yet, only teaching him about it. At least his mother showed him a few things when he came home and she saw his drawn face. She would laugh and say that he would grow old soon if he kept looking like that. He always said back that he could not help it, because lessons were draining the life out of him. Then she would show him something wonderful and dangerous and his teacher would yell Brennan's ear off if he ever found out. His mother was amazing beyond words, no matter what others might say.
Today was special, because today he had cut out of the temple while his teacher was preoccupied with the older students. One of them had a massive slip-up, and Brennan saw his chance to escape. A day not spent under the watchful thumb of his teacher was well worth whatever punishment was sure to come. His mother would vouch for him, if no one else would - and he knew that no one else would. Father was out hunting again, although he was expected back in a few weeks with lots of game. They would have a large meal and the gaunt look would leave his mother’s face. If they were really lucky, Father would bring back a small live animal, Brennan would get a day to play with it while Mother prepared. The animal would be gone the next day and Mother would be in unusually good spirits.
Despite what the other kids at the temple would say, Brennan was not an idiot. He knew what was going on. It was the same reason that they did not want his mother teaching him any magic.
But those thoughts left him as the day stretched out before him blanketed in snow. He took to the nearest outcropping of rock at a dead run, one hand holding his fur hat to his head as he ran headlong across the snow and ice. Once he reached the jutting tip of the rock, he jumped, pulling his knees to his chest as he plummeted the short distance into a snow drift. With a burst of childish laughter, he burst free from the snow bank and stumbled off, shedding clumps and dustings of snow as he went. It was not long before he came upon a little girl, not terribly much younger than himself, and a light of devilish delight lit in his eyes.
Rolling up some snow, which was more dust than a ball when he finished, he tossed it in her direction. As soon as it was released, it disintegrated into a cloud of snow that flew down upon her. He laughed at the sight before calling out, "You're it!" He was already readying his next volley, uncaring if she wanted to play or not. After all, who would not want to play in the snow on a day like this?