Shallows Edge ain't no grave. - Printable Version

Not for the first time, Reyes wondered why he remained this far north. He knew the answer, of course, but now he was starting to think it might be the last time he had such thoughts. He never remembered it being this cold last year (his first winter beyond the warm reaches of the American southwest), and shit, if he bitched about cuddling up in Wild Rye Fields' den site - he might actually die just here and now.

Dios mio.

He tucked his nose over his tail, eyes clamped firmly shut as if that might protect them from freezing solid. Askan had gone out for a bit - one of them had to actually, you know, do alpha stuff here and there - and yes, Reyes was very sure he'd be stone cold by the time his mate got back. Fuck. He hoped the pups were smart enough to take cover from the fucking awful wind.

Fuck.

Hawthorne may not have been the smartest wolf in the world but even she knew being out in the wind any longer would have been a death sentence. She wasn't far from the den in the first place, not wanting to get caught up in a snow storm or anything but now she was hauling her rear back to the den. Maybe it had been stupid to even leave it in the first place.

There in the den was the familiar form of Reyes. Maybe on any other day she would have avoided bombarding him with close contact. But in this moment? Hawthorne was going to settle herself right against his back and seek out any warmth she could. A loud huff was the only sound she would make for the passing moments.

We're gonna die. She muttered, fully convinced of her own words.

Why was it so heckin’ cold?! And windy?! Sachiel was positive that he was never going to stop shivering as the wind blew around him, sending his fur this way and that way while chilling him to the bone. He had attempted to go on a patrol without his tangerine-eyed friend—maybe look for something to bring back for them to gnaw on—but the cold chased him back to the Shallows. His tail was tucked between his hindlegs as he marched back toward the den, his head hanging low as his ears folded neatly against his frosted agouti fur.

He teetered into the communal den, his mismatched eyes sweeping through the darkness as he searched for someone (or someones) to seek warmth from. Ah-ha! Pumpkin Eyes! The perfect victim! He shuffled forward and flopped down beside her, scooting closer to his back was pressed against her stomach (aka, he was attempting to be the little spoon). I-it’s f-f-fuh-fuhreezing, he mumbled as he tried to soak up as much heat from her as possible, his teeth chattering as he spoke. Wasn’t winter supposed to be over soon? @Reyes was present, too, and for a fleeting moment he debated sandwiching himself between the two wolves... but he didn't want to test his luck with his dark leader. Pumpkin Eyes he could handle, but he didn't want to piss off the bossman.

"Yep."

On a normal day, Reyes wouldn't have appreciated being cuddled up against without someone asking first. He wasn't sure he really liked it just now, but fucking hell, having Hawthorne pressed up against him was better than trying to shiver himself warm again. He'd die trying. And he had nothing else to say, except Sachiel joined them shortly thereafter, effectively creating a puppy sandwich.

Reyes wasn't sure he appreciated being one of the bread slices.

With a great huff, he half lifted himself off the cold floor and shuffled around, back facing the den entrance as he pushed his way into the cuddle puddle. Even an alpha needed a lit bit of warmth, you know? His tail hugging his legs tightly as he tried to curl around both bodies…or just sort of…create a warm pile, he supposed. It was better than a wolf stack. "You okay, chico? Chica? Still feel all your toes?"

"Yep."

Well, at least the duo was in agreeance. Not to mention she wasn't met with teeth or even a growl for trying to seek warmth from the leader. That was also a sign of just how cold it was because Hawthorne was pretty damn sure her superiors could take on anything - wolf or weather.

Hawthorne's tail gave a few brief wags at the appearance of her Plant Boy before it curled back against her body. She had no problem playing the role of the big spoon, especially when his words seemed to stumble while talking. Instinctively she threw a foreleg over him to make sure he stayed rooted to the spot. If they were going to die well at least she was going to die in good company.

Yeah. Not so sure 'bout my nose, though. With that being said she eagerly shoved her muzzle into Sachiel's fur. She closed her eyes tightly, enjoying what warmth she could feel before a thought jumped to mind. Where's Askan? Remington? A harsh frown digging into her form as she raised her head up from Sachiel's fur. Hawthorne was not particularly close to the latter but Remington deserved as much protection from the cold as Askan (or anyone else for that matter).

Sachiel wasn’t sure he could feel anything anymore. Despite the warmth that radiated off his partner in crime and his alpha, the tawny boy couldn’t get warm. Going outside had been a stupid idea but he hadn’t realized how dreadful the weather had gotten. He nestled deeper against Hawthorne’s stomach in a selfish attempt at stealing all of her body heat. His heart skipped a beat when she tossed her leg over his body, but he was convinced that it was from the cold. Was this what dying felt like? His mismatched eyes blinked shut as he snuggled into the warmth of his packmates in hopes that he wouldn’t lose any of his toes. I th-think so, he chattered once more as he attempted to move each toe one by one… it hurt, so it meant they were still attached… right? He hoped so. Sachiel could already imagine all the names Pumpkin Eyes would come up with if he were to lose a toe or two…

His ears twitched at his friend’s question but he did not lift his chin from Reyes’ fur. And the others… the blue-eyed ~~a-hole~~ teenager and the peppered newcomer…? Where had they gone? Was the rest of the pack going to freeze to death? Oh no.

Nose? Well, a wolf needed that. Arguably more than any one single toe. Reyes huffed softly, rearranging himself within his little cuddle puddle, pressing his nose against the yearling's - or near yearlings. It was hard to think that in a stark few months, it would actually be springtime, with new puppies, making these ones yearlings. Good grief.

Of course, they had to all survive that long, first.

He pressed his nose to Hawthorne's, tongue laving over to make sure she wasn't going to lose it. Cold, sure, but didn't have that dead feel. And that left Sachiel, who was still able to wiggle his toes. So yeah, they were all frozen and miserable, but no one was about to croak. And he might have heaved a sigh, if Hawth hadn't wondered after their missing packmates. Shit. "Askan and I were splitting up border patrol. Think Rem went in his direction." Fuck. His brows furrowed. His ears flattened. His tail lashed before curling closer to his body. "Hell. Once I get a little warmer, I'll go out."

Wouldn't do anyone any good if he dropped dead first.

"You see anyone on your way back in, Sach?"

Slowly he began to warm up, starting from where his fur met the fur of his companions. It began to spread his body with steady determination, his drowsy eyelids blinking shut as he embraced his shivering packmates the best he could. He was thankful he’d joined such a tight-knit group, for he would not have sought of the comfort of his previous packmates in the Vale. Maybe Castel, who’s frail body could hardly provide enough warmth for herself, or his father. But the others? They had been like strangers to him—especially his own mother.

He heard something about a patrol and Remington, but the blue-eyed Edge Lord didn’t mention any other names. Then he spoke of going back out into the cold, to look for the others. At the question directed at him Sachiel’s eyes blinked open, his chin turned toward the older male. Nobody, he answered quickly, his teeth chattering less than before. Y’want me t’come with? He offered even though he mentally recoiled at the thought of going back into the cold.