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[The of that turn momentum brings the sled careening around, with an impressive spray of powdery snow that arcs over head- and suddenly the world is pitching upside down, with half of Franz's weight on him, and his shoulder in a snowdrift, and there's pure cold sliding up the ankle of his trousers and down his neck, a mouthful of blonde windswept hair, and who knows where Franz's hat has flown off to, somewhere in the mix-

But Daedalus is delighted, and breathless, slowly turning over spread-legged onto his back and batting a gloveful of snow towards his boyfriend.

The chill burns, but it doesn't really matter.]