If he'd thought it once he'd thought it a hundred times: Archer did not like winter. He did not like it one bit. It was cold and windy and wet and the snow hid their food and made the ground slippery. The water was frozen and it was dark all the time, or at least it felt like it was, because Archer stayed up late and slept through the light hours of the day.
He didn't like winter. End of story.
He also didn't like it because more animals seemed to be getting bolder and Eros was a trouble magnet and after the whole elk situation Archer had been really worried every day. Sometimes his shoulder still ached, though he chalked that up to thinking too hard. It shouldn't still hurt; it'd been too long. But... that didn't stop it from hurting sometimes.
And now, now, there was something new in the air. Something bitter. The air was eerily quiet, but it was so, so cold, and Archer's fur prickled. There had to be another storm coming.
![](https://i.imgur.com/zHxmDjA.png)
Archer is very haggard and thin; it is obvious he is not doing well.