no context for you good luck piecing THIS together *wheeze* ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The snowflakes that poured from the dark sky hit his fur like tiny, icy needles. They swirled around him in the mighty blizzard, threatening to knock him over if he didn't stand his ground. Gripping his suitcase tighter, he hugged himself with his free arm and gritted his teeth. The cold snow chilled his feet to the bone as he trudged onward, barefoot. His black vest and crimson tie were practically frozen to him. He squinted, trying to look for any sign of life in the icy wasteland he trekked through. There. He finally spotted it. In the distance sat a quaint little town, like a beacon in the thick of night. The light from the various homes in the village seemed warm and welcoming. Fighting off yet another shiver, he hurried in the direction of the town, his pace quickening. /As soon as I can get away from this wretched snowstorm, I'll be able to craft an escape plan./ He soon neared the little township, approaching one of the foremost houses. Trotting along the patchy, gravel road, he made his way to the small cabin beside him. As soon as he reached the door, he hurriedly knocked. No response. He knocked again. Again, he was met with silence. He pounded at the door once more, barely able to restrain himself from punching it instead. The door flew open, and he was greeted by some sort of furry creature, a bit shorter than he was. It appeared to be a ferret. "Whaddya want?!" the ferret groaned, glaring up at him. He flicked his long, drenched tail and growled. "Could you direct me to the nearest hotel or inn?" he huffed. "Seriously? YOU COULDN'T SEE THE GIANT GLOWY PURPLE SIGN TWO BLOCKS DOWN?! THERE'S AN INN /RIGHT THERE!/" the ferret screeched at him. He remained silent, but clenched his soggy suitcase even tighter. "Go on, now. I told ya what ya wanted, Wolf Boy." the ferret snorted. "Do not call me that /ever again,/" the wolf warned, his ears pinning back. The ferret laughed. "Good luck, Wolf Boy. The people of Barren don't like outsiders." He slammed the door in the wolf's face. The wolf sighed and stared down the street. Brushing some clumps of ice off his coal black fur, he started for the inn. Reaching inside the pocket of his vest, he pulled out a single, glimmering gold ring. It was almost as cold as the gravel beneath his feet. He turned it over in his hand a few times, then slipped it back into his pocket, and quickened his pace. /I have to get out of here./
