“Ice crystals that fall like rain, but I’ve told you this before.”
“And I still don’t believe it.”
“Believe it or not you’re going to wear those things. Now put them on!”
She looked at him with mutiny on her face. “All right, slave driver,” she muttered as she picked up the clothing, “but I hope you’ll itch someday and be unable to scratch.”
“And try to wear those garments more gracefully. You make them look like a sack.”
“They feel like one. I keep thinking that all I need is a tag around my neck.”
“You haven’t much time to get used to them,” Kennon said. “We’re leaving this week.”
“So soon?”
“Yes—and you’ll wear those things to the ship, into the ship, and all the time we’re on the ship. You’ll keep wearing clothing until it looks right.”
“Slave driver!” Copper hissed.