Over the past few days Rowan had heard a lot of positive buzz around a new café in town so naturally she had to investigate. Everything people had said revolved around their selection of cold drinks and while she would normally prefer the warmth in this weather, she couldn’t help but be curious what had people so excited about them. So here she stood, outside a lovely little building prepared to brave the chill to satisfy her curiosity. As she stepped inside she found herself overwhelmed with astonishment at the quality of their décor. Somehow transported to a montane forest in the middle of this enormous metropolis.

“Amazing…”

Momentarily forgetting her intention in coming to the café, she began to explore, running her fingers along the bark of these bizarre false trees. They almost felt real. Impressed, she decided to spend a few minutes wandering to admire the craftsmanship that defied both logic and the exterior of the café itself. It felt impossible and yet here it stood. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if this was another trick of whatever forces spread throughout the city during holidays but she had seen more than enough impressive displays made by human hands to put faith in their work, even if it seemed like a bit much for the interior of a small café. Pushing those slightly paranoid thoughts aside, she joined the other customers in a line that was surprisingly short for all of the hype. Maybe it was a good thing that she had chosen to go in the evening instead of braving the morning rush. As she waited she browsed the menu curiously, unsure of what to try before settling on an unusual cold foamed strawberry drink. A few minutes passed before the drink was chilling her hand on the way back to her car.

As Rowans dropped into the driver’s seat, she decided that she might as well see what all the fuss was about before taking to the road. A single sweet sip confirmed that it was worth what little trouble she had taken to get there. Her few moments spent in this cold weather no doubt had irritated her nasal passages, as several small sneezes escaped her.

Snowflakes?

Soft laughter bubbled forth at the absurdity of that thought as she grabbed a tissue from her glovebox.
(Mental note: sanitize the steering wheel.)

A deeper draught of the drink sent a chill through her, a pleasant contrast with the heat from the car’s vents.

Her laughter intensified as a second flurry burst from her nostrils. It might be a bit gross, considering their source (alright maybe more than a bit gross), but as side effects of this city’s magic she could do a lot worse.

It was strange, and a vague memory of a Frozen short came to mind with another gust of laughter, sincere amusement suffusing her face at her bizarre situation. At least she had to be grateful that she wasn’t sneezing snow people.