“Smart llama,” I say, nudging Oxford’s side affectionately. “He knows where the best treats come from.”
Everett gives me a mock-wounded look. “After all these years of hay and premium alfalfa, he abandons me for a woman with strawberries.”
“The way to a llama’s heart,” I whisper, then pause as Everett puts a finger to his lips, then points toward a slight depression behind a fallen log about twenty feet away. It’s the perfect defensive position—a natural snow fort with good visibility but plenty of cover.
He leans in so close his lips almost brush my ear. “On the count of three, we make a run for it. Oxford can cover our retreat.”
I nod, suddenly unable to speak.
“One…” he mouths silently, his eyes locked with mine.
I grip my snowballs tighter.
“Two…”
I tense my muscles, ready to sprint.
“Three!”
We burst from our hiding spot, snow flying as we dash across the open space. I hear Finn’s surprised shout from somewhereto our right, followed immediately by the whistle of a snowball sailing past my ear. I yelp and duck, nearly losing my footing in the deep snow.
Everett grabs my hand, pulling me forward as another snowball whizzes by. Behind us, Oxford positions himself directly in the line of fire, a fluffy white barrier between our attackers and us. A snowball hits him square in the side, and he doesn’t even flinch, just gives Gabe a look of profound disdain as the snow slides off his thick coat.
We dive behind the log just as a barrage of snowballs pelts our previous position. I land half on top of Everett, both of us breathing hard and trying not to laugh.
“Did you see Oxford’s face?” I gasp, laughing, rolling off him. “He looked so offended!”
We peer over the log to see Oxford trotting toward us, completely unruffled by the snowball assault. He settles beside our position with the dignified air of a knight taking his post.
“Good job, buddy,” I tell him, patting his side. “Very heroic.”
Oxford makes a soft humming sound that I choose to interpret as, “You’re welcome.”
“I don’t see them,” I whisper, squinting at the trees where Finn and Gabe disappeared.
“They’re being sneaky,” Everett murmurs. “We need a distraction.”
“I volunteer Oxford!”
The llama looks at me.
“Sorry, but you’re totally built for this.”
Everett’s eyes light up. “I have a plan. You and Oxford create a diversion to draw Finn’s fire. I’ll circle around and take him out, then we hunt down Gabe together.”
“Roger that, Captain Pine,” I say with a mock salute.
" Okay, prepare for assault.” He says, then makes a run for it with an agility that speaks of years of snow wars.
I glance at Oxford. “He’s enjoying this way too much.”
A snowball whizzes past my head, exploding against a tree trunk. I yelp and duck down as Finn’s voice rings out.
“First blood!”
“That wasn’t even close,” I call back.
“It was a warning shot,” he answers. “Next one’s going to hit you right in the boobies unless you surrender.”