Vovka the Samoyed puppy woke up to a world that had gone completely, wonderfully white. He pressed his little black nose against the cold window and let out the tiniest, most surprised woof he had ever woofed.
"That's snow, Vovka," Lyanna laughed, wrapping a scarf around her neck. "It's your very first one. Come and see!"
The moment the back door opened, Vovka bounded out — and stopped. The ground was soft and squeaky and freezing under his paws. He lifted one foot, then another, doing a funny high-stepping dance, until a fat snowflake landed right on his nose and made him sneeze.
Soon Vovka forgot all about being cold. He rolled and tumbled and dug little tunnels, his thick white fur puffing up until he looked exactly like a snowball with a wagging tail. He chased snowflakes he could never quite catch and barked happily at the ones that drifted past his ears.
But Vovka's nose loved to follow interesting smells, and one especially interesting smell led him further and further down the garden — past the fence, around a frosty bush, and into a quiet white field he did not recognise at all. When he looked up, the house was gone. Everything was soft and still and the same shade of white.
Vovka sat down. His tail drooped. A little worried whimper slipped out into the cold air.
Then he spotted something. Nearby stood a round, friendly shape with a carrot nose and two twig arms held wide open — a snow friend someone had built and left behind. It couldn't talk, of course, but it looked so warm and welcoming that Vovka trotted straight over and curled up against its side.
He wasn't alone anymore, and that made the waiting easier. Vovka lifted his fuzzy head and howled the softest little "arooo" he could — once, twice, three times — hoping the wind might carry it home.
And it did. Through the snowy hush came a voice he knew better than any other. "Vovka! There you are!" Lyanna came running, cheeks pink from the cold, and scooped him up into the warmest, snuggliest hug. Vovka licked her nose and wagged his whole fluffy body.
Before they left, Lyanna tucked her own scarf around the snow friend. "Thank you for looking after him," she whispered. Then she carried Vovka home, where hot cocoa and a fuzzy blanket were waiting — and where a little puppy learned that no matter how big and white the world gets, home is wherever someone is looking for you.
The End.
Snug, snowy, and safe at last.