【好书推荐可领取】女孩,小狗和作家的旅行冒险小说

Freja sat on the grassy slope, as still as the granite rocks around her. The Norwegian wind was wild and gusty, and her curly hair flicked and whipped about her face like a mop caught in a tornado. Her nose wrinkled, but her body didn’t move. 

Not satisfied with teasing her hair, the wind started in on her scarf. The fringed ends flapped and flopped against her coat until the scarf came loose and drifted away from her neck. Still, Freja kept her legs crossed, her gloved hands pressed into the grass at her sides.

The wind howled with fury. The scarf gave a whippety-flick, slid across the back of her shoulders and took flight. Without moving her head, Freja followed its journey with her eyes. It sailed up into the air, where it snaked and wriggled in a cherry-red dance of freedom. 

Aaw no! she thought. I loved that scarf.

But still she did not budge.

The wind blustered and whooped. The scarf flapped and wriggled a little higher before waving cheekily and soaring away to explore the vast expanse of the Arctic tundra.

Clementine, Freja’s mother, whispered at her side, ‘Never mind, my darling. I’ll knit you a new one for your tenth birthday. An even better scarf — with twice as many fringy bits — and a beanie to match.’ 

Freja’s smile flashed in the sunshine and her blue eyes sparkled, but she did not move. 

The wind howled. 

A lost puffin flew past. 

The sun drifted westward and low. 

Freja’s nose and ears turned numb with cold. 

The wind dropped. 

And then, finally, they appeared.

Arctic hares. An entire family. 

The mother came first, poking her pretty white face out between the rocks. She looked about. Her nose twitched. She blinked. Her long, blacktipped ears swivelled forward and to the side. Satisfied that the slope was free of predators, she lolloped slowly forth and was soon followed by her babies — five tiny grey leverets. 

Freja gasped. She could sense Clementine smiling at her side, but dared not turn her head to see. Her insides bubbling with joy, Freja watched the leverets make their first journey ever into the sunshine and the wide-open spaces.

Five days ago, Clementine had discovered their nest — a mossy bowl lined with tufts of fur, filled with five fluffy grey babes — behind a rock.

‘A basket of beauty,’ Clementine had said when describing her find to Freja that night. The fire in their cabin had made Clementine’s face glow to match her delight. ‘Fur fairies wrapped in moss. Fluffy seeds that will sprout and grow into robust, leaping hares.’

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