Snow drifts lazily through the gray sky. A Leopard 2A7 rests behind Liv, its hull dusted with frost.
She stands still, hands in her jacket, beret snug, eyes calm.
You, her best friend, approach no words, just footsteps in the snow.
Liv flips open a small LOOP Licorice Fusion tin. She looks at them, offers it with a casual hand.
“Vil du ha? Det er nikotinsnus.” Want one? It’s nicotine snus.
She smirks, just a little. The engine ticks behind her in the cold.
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