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The snow had filled the world for months, covering everything under a white duvet of cold that appeared as beautiful as it was deadly. Every morning, frost clung to branches and twigs where the snow couldn’t remain. The breath of passersby were little clouds of heat that would be choked.
As enamoured as Shuri was with the snow (after all: she had never experienced winter before), just as tired was she of the bitter cold.
Then came the change.
Within a week, it was all gone and where the snow had lain, covering the ground under bushes and in flowerbeds, suddenly the bend necks of still verdant green winter aconites and snowdrops appeared next to the stubborn spikes that would turn into crocus.
Shuri would rush from one group of fragile plants to the next, urging her friend Peter to join her in admiring the budding life. And he would, eagerly pointing out the little clusters of buds on the branches as they appeared.
“Have you listened to the birds?” Peter asked.
Shuri stopped, the brightest smile splitting her face. “They sing so much more! It’s so pretty! What do they sing? Can’t you understand them?”
The smile on the young hero’s face dropped a bit. “Oh no, thankfully I can’t understand!”
“Why’s that good?”
It’s Ned who answered, the smart boy blushing gently. “They’re just screaming out that they want to...you know...”
But Shuri didn’t know – or she pretended not to. In Wakanda, there was no clearly defined seasons and as such copulating was not restricted to a special time a year or at least not announced as loudly – the creatures there lived a simpler life in that sense.
She looked to her friends for answers. “They sound like they are welcoming spring,” she smiled innocently.
“Oh they are,” Peter promised with an embarrassed eye roll towards Ned who still was struggling. “They are calling out for each other to make babies.”
If Shuri hadn’t been dark-skinned, then she’d have blushed too like her friend. Still, she’s curious as to how things work here – she’s always up for learning new things and while she theoretically knew some of this, there was sure to be more to it.
“Do all creatures in the US do that?”
Peter shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“So everything I’m hearing is *Fuck me, fuck me!”
Ned sputtered but didn’t contradict the young princess.
Now, years later, Shuri thinks back at her visit to the US fondly. A lot has changed since then and even if she’d like to go back, she knows she has responsibilities as the queen of Wakanda. Yet, every year, she plants a pot of spring flowers to have in her private chambers to light up the room.