Lorrie Trace was a confident woman with skin the color of creamy leite chocolate. Her kind eyes saw the world in a perspective that most didn't. She always tried to see the good in everyone and everything. Some might say she has a coração of gold. She attended Harvard universidade and received a doctorate in science and physics. Ever since, she's been traveling the world, wanting to know mais about it and its wonders.

As always, it was a freezing, below zero dia in Antarctica. Lorrie was wearing a heavy black casaco with a sweater underneath, thermal, blue colored gloves, and think black pants, and was out gathering information, such as wind speeds and snow samples. Her amor for Earth was shown through her years of traveling and research. She's visited mais countries than she could count. However, this was her first time visiting Antarctica. She'd tried many times, but always became distracted when she saw or discovered something that fascinated her. When she arrived in Antarctica, she was told to always travel with someone to ensure her safety.

Preston Daper was a tall man with verde mar, verde-mar eyes and ebony skin and a deep, calming voice that seemed to burrow itself inside you and warm your soul. He'd never met Lorrie before, but he was happy to help her through her research. He was very familiar with Antarctica; he'd done his share of research on Antarctica before, and was, too, intrigued por the adaptations made in its chilling climate.

Now, the two of them were on their way back to the small insulated cabine where the primary research would take place. "So, what started your interest in all of this?" Preston asked.

"Well, when I was a teenager, my family lived near woods. Whenever I was upset or needed to think, I would go sit under this large oak árvore and listen to the sounds of the world around me. It helped me appreciate the little things in life." Lorrie answered.

"And you've been traveling for how many years?"

"About eleven."

"My. You've been busy."

Lorrie laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Preston smiled shyly. "So you've never been married?"

Lorrie became bashful. "No. I've always been single. Men have tried, but were turned away when they found out how much I travel."

"'s their loss I suppose." Preston said giving her a sideways glance.

Lorrie looked away shyly and something caught her eye. A short distance to her right, something small and black was moving along in the white haze of snow. "Preston, look." She said taking his arm and pointing in the direction of the unknown figure. Preston looked that way and his face fell into a curious concern. He gently took her shoulder and she followed him in the direction on whatever was moving. He moved with caution until it became clear of what the small creature was: a penguin.

"Aw, wheres the rest of his rookery?" Lorrie asked stepping closer, though when she did, she could tell that something was wrong with it. It was moving slow and in an awkward motion that suggested that it was in pain. But that's not the only thing she noticed; there was an egg tucked safely under his belly. When he saw them, he stopped and eyed them both, unsure of whether the tall creatures that stood before him were friendly or not. Lorrie carefully stepped toward him with her hand extended forward. "It's okay, little fella. I'm not gonna hurt you." The pinguim seemed to hesitate, then waddle progressivo, para a frente a couple of steps and allowed her to pet his forehead. Lorrie smiled. "Yeah, it's okay." The pinguim seemed to enjoy her touch, though he still seemed to be in pain. "What do you think is wrong with him, Preston? The poor dear seems to be sick or something."

"I don't know. You think we should take him with us? Maybe we can figure out what's wrong with him."

"Yeah. I can't urso to see this sweet little guy like this. Come here and grab the egg when I pick him up and keep it warm."

Preston got ready and Lorrie gently picked up the weak penguin; Preston quickly retrieved the egg from the cold snow. Lorrie and Preston held the pinguim and the egg close to their bodies, slightly under their coats.

About another twenty minutos of trudging through the snow and harsh winds, they arrived at the cabin. Upon entering and shutting the door behind them, Preston wrapped the egg gently in a thick blanket and started a fire. Lorrie gently laid the pinguim on a mesa, tabela and removed her gloves, hat, and scarf, revealing her rosy nose and cheeks and her bright blue eyes. Light specks of snow laid upon her wood-brown hair, which was shoulder length and curled inward at the bottom. She gently stroked the feathers on his belly. "It's okay, little guy. You're gonna be okay.

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"Hey! Hey, Lorrie! Wake up!"

Lorrie sluggishly opened her eyes upon Preston shaking her awake and peeked up over the blankets. "Preston? What's wrong? It's 6:30 in the morning."

"Come on! You've got to hurry or you'll miss it!" Preston said pulling the covers off of her and pulling her arm toward the room door. They quickly walked into the living room where the egg lay in a pile of blankets. The pinguim was standing seguinte to it in wait.

"Whats going on, Preston?"

"Shh! Just watch." They came to a halt por the sofá and waited a moment, then Lorrie heard it. The egg was cracking open. Lorrie cupped her hands over her mouth as a small beak began poking its way through the shell. Finally, the small hatchling poked its head through and worked itself out of the egg. When it finally emerged, it curiously looked around.

Lorrie kneeled seguinte to the sofá to get a better look. A huge smile had crossed over her face and she was nearly crying. She held out her finger to the young hatchling and he or she eyed it curiously, then poked her with its flipper. Lorrie gasped in surprise and the hatchling jumped back and shielded its face with its flippers.

"Oh, it's okay baby, I didn't mean to scare you." Lorrie said softly. She gently reached over and petted its soft, fluffy feathers. The hatchling seemed to relax. "There; now go to your Pap..." -She looked at where the other pinguim was. "-...a..." She almost started to bawl. The hatchlings' father lay limp and lifeless on the couch, right after his son or daughter had officially entered the world. She scooted over to him and gently stroked his cold feathers.

Preston scooted seguinte to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Lorrie." Lorrie couldn't contain herself; she turned, buried her face into his chest and cried.

Eventually she cried herself to sleep.

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It was about 10:45 when she woke up again. She opened her eyes to see herself once again in her bed, the covers up to her chin. She pushed them off and a shiver immediately shimmied down her spine. She grabbed the blankets and pulled them around her shoulders to shield herself from the cold, got up, and opened the door to her room.

Immediately, the smell of oatmeal and torrada, brinde hit her in the face like a ton of bricks; it was enough to make her stomach growl loud enough to hear through the blankets and the saliva in her mouth to thicken. She followed the scent into the cozinha where Preston had just begun pouring oatmeal into two bowls.

"Hey there. I was about to come and get you. I hope you don't mind; I wasn't really in the mood for eggs this morning." He said with a smile.

Lorrie smiled back. "Don't worry, the feeling is mutual. Where is the little hatchling, anyway?" She asked looking around.

"Snoozing away in his little bundle of blankets." Lorrie looked at the pile of blankets in the neighboring living room. The baby pinguim was sleeping peacefully. She smiled and looked back toward Preston as he said: "He's a boy, por the way."

Lorrie sat down at the mesa, tabela and Preston joined her. "What did you do with his father?" She whispered.

"I got a blood and saliva sample for you before I buried him out back. I figured you'd want to do tests. What are we going to do about the baby?"

Lorrie thought for a moment. "I'll take care of him."

"Are you sure you can handle that kind of responsibility?"

"Absolutely. And besides, I want to know what killed his father." Lorrie answered taking a bite of oatmeal.

"What will you name him?" Preston asked smoothing manteiga onto his toast.

Lorrie thought long and hard on that one. "I'll name him after my father. He'll be my little Kowalski."

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"So have you figured anything out, Lorrie?" Preston asked walking into the room she was in. Lorrie had been examining the blood and saliva samples for three and a half hours now.

"All I'm able to tell por looking at them is that he probably ingested something. What, I don't know. I know a guy in Manhattan. I'm going to let him run an analysis." Lorrie answered taking some mais notes and turning in her chair to face him. "Have you fed him yet, por the way?"

"Actually, that's what I came in here for. Did you wanna help?"

Lorrie smiled. "I'd amor to." She got to her feet and followed Preston into the kitchen.

Kowalski was in a clothes basket that was half full of blankets. He playfully poked his flipper through the openings in the side chirping happily. Lorrie laughed and gently picked him up and cradled him in her arms. Preston pulled a raw peixe from the refrigerator. After shaving it and separating the meat from the bones, he put the meat in the blender. After the peixe was blended into a mush, he removed the lid; he nearly gagged at the smell. "Whew! Good luck getting used to that!" Lorrie laughed.

After pouring it into an empty squeezable honey bottle, he handed it to Lorrie. She held Kowalski like a baby and held the bottle to his beak. Kowalski curiously licked the opening, then sucked out the solution. He seemed to enjoy it. Lorrie smiled, then looked at Preston, who was staring at the chick in awe.

After feeding him, Lorrie continued her Antarctic research. She didn't even realize that she was talking to Kowalski as if he were her student. "...The Earth is tilted on an axis, so when the northern hemisphere is facing away in the winter, Antarctica is deprived of sunlight, and when it's facing toward the sun in the summer, it receives light 24/7." She was interrupted por the sound of Preston's voice behind her.

"Why does Kowalski seem to be so mesmerized por that?" He asked with a laugh. She had Kowalski sitting on her desk, and it was as if he was listening intently. Lorrie turned to face him.

"Preston! How long have you been standing there?" She asked, a little embarrassed.

"Not long. I see you've became attached to the little fellow."

Lorrie turned back to Kowalski and stroked his soft feathers. "Well, yeah, I mean...the poor little guy lost his father. He has no one to care for him."

"Well, if he hangs around you for much longer, he's going to be the smartest pinguim in Antarctica." Preston joked.

"Well, as much as I wish that could become a reality, I'm pretty sure he can't understand a word I'm saying, and here I am rambling on to him!" She said laughing.

"Did you call marreco, drake about that sample?"

"Mm-hm. I'll be staying here for another week, then I'll leave for Manhattan."

Preston's face fell. "Really? You're leaving that soon?"

"Well, I want to know what happened to his father. Besides, as amazing as Antarctica is, I really don't see much that I can do here anyway. I'll probably come back someday." Lorrie explained.

Preston nodded. "Oh...okay. I understand. Um...I'm gonna go start on something for dinner." He turned and left the room

Lorrie turned back to Kowalski again, who had found amusement in hitting the escrivaninha, mesa with a pencil. "Give me that you silly!" Lorrie said with a laugh and taking the pencil from him. She petted his soft head. "Smartest pinguim in Antarctica...one can imagine."