Kalfiez

She hated Tokotines Day: the cheesy love songs, the flowers everywhere making her sneeze and her eyes water, the gross way folks were encouraged to spend as many tokens as tokoly possible, where the more you spent meant the more you supposedly loved your partner, all of it. So why in Aippaq's name had she agreed to a blind date today? Prancer minced carefully through the snowdrifts, crunching through the iced-over crust into the soft powder beneath. A cold wind whipped around her, slicing through her short, soft sphinx fur and chilling her right to the bone. Oh she could just kill Yulbars! It was bad enough to be set up on a blind date, it was even worse being set up on one at a ski resort. During what was turning out to be one of the coldest days of the year. Great. She could feel her resting bitch face slowly deepening into a proper scowl. Cresting a hill, she spied Yulbars at the base of it. He wasn't hard to spot, she would recognize that obnoxiously orange fur anywhere. What

"I hate bears."  Arrie glanced over at the weredog trudging through the fresh snow beside him. "Why? You're nearly as big as one, you can't tell me you're scared of them."  Batu shifted the pack on his shoulder to a more comfortable position, avoiding the reddish runner's gaze. It wasn't much of an exaggeration; Batu stood a solid 6'5", broad-shouldered and thickset, with arms that looked like they could punch a hole in a rock. He looked human, almost, at least until you noticed the dark rims of his eyelids and lips, the sharp teeth and pointed ears, and realized that the thick, pale ruff of fur around his neck wasn't in fact part of a coat but part of him, matching the blondish hair on top of his head and contrasting with the tawny hue of his skin. The short, stubby tail and fuzzy hands that were more paw than hand didn't help. He was even bigger when he shifted into a hulking canid, and could easily be mistaken for a bear himself from his size, small ears, and hefty muzzle.  "I'm

”Don’t touch that!” Keren’s words were like a whip-crack across Chaz’s snout, and the big black dire paused with his mouth gaping comically just inches away from a gnarled antler. “Why?” Chaz asked, turning to fix his icy glare on his tawny companion. “What are you, chicken?” Keren’s golden gaze met Chaz’s, then slid down to roam over the deer skeleton that laid in the center of a dry, dead circle of grass, the bones picked ominously clean but laying close enough to touch, not scattered about as they would be if scavengers had gone to work on the carcass. The skeleton was huge, big enough to be a moose - and a large one at that - but the antlers twisting from the skull were long, crooked, and gnarled like tree branches instead of the flat, palmate antlers of a moose. Frankly, they didn't even look like a normal deer's antlers either. A small breeze whirled around the tokotas and rustled the grass with a dry, tired sigh. “I don’t like the way this feels,” Keren said finally