Excerpt: This Is The Point

The air was so cold I could feel it dry my nose and burn down my throat. Scrunching my face, I brought a chilly hand up and rubbed violently at the front of my head.
I don’t want to get up. I knew it. My beast knew it. The mind knew it. And yet, here I was, still bracing myself for pushing back my warm blankets and feeling the bite of the air on my skin. It always took a couple of minutes before I was brave enough to face the fact that I couldn’t live in my cocoon. I had to face the day – forget seizing it for now. The seizures would start when I hit the cold.
Get up, the mind ordered. Go back to sleep, my beast growled, tucking in deeper.
And, as always in the long run, the mind won. I pulled another frigid breath through my nose, drying whatever membranes hadn’t been hit in the first run, closed my eyes, and faced the world.