Frost glazed the black wolf's exposed fur as he took his time walking past trees. Powdered snow made his feet look completely white, his breath was visible as he breathed heavily with a lazy, absent-minded smile. Piece-by-piece, he removed his clothing without even a shiver, first unzipping his coat and dropping it aside, the impact on the ground making a small, short-lived cloud of white kick up before settling. It almost felt like his very bones were being iced over, and at the point that he took his shirt off, exposing his chest, and kicking off his pants and underwear, he couldn't feel a thing anymore. Completely numb, he sat down in a shadowed corner of the forest, looking up at the snowfall, letting the flakes fall over his face, a few hitting his eyes and making him blink.

Spreading his limbs and leaning against a tree, he relaxed, thinking to himself about life. Things he wished he got to do, or maybe things he wished he hadn't done. He wondered, too, what it'd be to be a piece of frozen rain drifting freely in the black air. Even in the sky, there is no freedom, only a descent from weight and gravity, among many who you collide with along your way.

Around that time, it began to become difficult to breath, and the weakening male took note that his smoky breath was slowing, shortening. What a way to go, he thought. That chill that made your teeth chatter, fur stand up, eyes water and blur from freezing wind. Most hate these things, but the masochistic canine loved it despite the pain. It wasn't that he felt he deserved it. Well, maybe, but only partially. It was more like he fit in with the winter nights. They were his family, and the air was his home as much as it was for the precipitation.

His eyelids closed, shutting his emerald green eyes from the rest of the world. As his mind drifted off, he could not hear a thing. The snow was still falling, and as he passed through the black salted air, he hanged his mouth open, catching flakes, and laughed.

**

Covering every inch of the city's cobblestone roads and its brickwork buildings was a noticeable coating of unidentifiable grime. It smells, and anything or anyone previously clean would soon be in similarly unclean condition. Fubis was a large city, known for its vast marketplace, and the home of many alchemists, blacksmiths, and anything else that could get one's hands gritty.

In the back of an alleyway amongst bags of garbage, a short white-furred fox could be found rummaging through a few bags. His eyes were a dull yellow, his fur not as shiny as it could be, lips with a few splotches of dirt on them. The poor lad had nothing on but a torn buttoned shirt that could barely pass for blue, a pair of brown pants with several holes inconveniently placed around his rump and upper thighs, and a brown sleeveless jacket.

Upon ripping a particular bag of garbage open with his untrimmed, yellow claws, a putrid smell of rotten meat mixed in with other scents filled his nose, and the fox vomited.

"Who the hell is back there!"

'Oh shit, not now!' he thought, looking to the alley's exit. Standing there was an overweight hound wearing an apron and holding a rolling pin. The cook didn't seem happy about someone stealing his garbage, even if it was rotten food. The dog growled. "If you want to eat, you buy it!" Then, the wooden utensil was flying in the air, and knocked the fox in the head. Everything after was black.

A splash of water woke the fox up, and he flailed and screamed at the sudden attack. "En guarde!" he yelled, swinging his fist with blurred vision until a leg swopped his feet from the ground and knocked him down.

"Stop being a moron!" a female voice said, and tossed the bucket aside. Wiping the water from his eyes and looking up, he could tell it was only his friend.

"Oh, Sentral! You don't know how glad I am to see you!" He stood up, and hugged the coyote girl. Both must've been around fifteen, and wore similarly tattered clothes and jacket, though Sentral's patched-colored skirt was in better condition. Might've been relatively new, even. A single scar was diagonally scratched between her hazel eyes and down the edge of her muzzle and left cheek, fur not growing over the damage. Her fur was a medium brown, and around her right eye was a black patch of fur. "There was this guy, he threw a freaking rolling pin at me, and- ouch!"

Sentral smacked the little knot formed on his head. "I know, Trop! I went out looking for you when you didn't come home, found you shoved in a bag of garbage, and the baker said if you loved the trash so much, then you can stay there unless I paid him. Do you know how much you owe me?!"

Holding his hands up defensively and laughing nervously, Trop tried to reassure and calm her. "Hey, I'm alright, right? We'll work it off, somehow."

"Without stealing!" she added.

Trop nodded, "Of course! No stealing," for now!, he thought. How else would they get by? He looked around, only now calm enough to notice he was back home, and laid out in the bathtub. "How'd you get me here?"

"I dragged you myself," she shut her eyes tightly, and sighed. "I'll go make dinner." Then, she left to the kitchen.

After pushing himself out of the slightly rusted tub, the fox grabbed a toothbrush and squirted some paste on it, brushing his fangs. "Grr," the mirror was dirty. Wetting a sleeve from his shirt in the sink, he wiped the mirror clean, finished his brushing, and spat out the used paste, and then washed his hands and face. Sentral gets mad when he forgets to before eating. He laughed; she was really like a sister, and he loved her like one. They had both been outcasts, or what the guards and rich people in Fubis called "rodents," with no consideration for actual rodents. Abandoned as children at an orphanage, they escaped together from that hellhole, and have lived together over a year now in the only place that would accept runaway trash. Sentral worked cleaning everything at a bar, since the owners could pay her less than an adult. It wasn't enough to live well, and Trop would often try to steal to make up for it, just as had happened. It didn't pay off all the time, but he felt justified in it.

Trop plopped down in his seat at the old, splintery wooden dinner table, rubbed his hands together, staring at the plate. It was a meager serving of fish and mashed potatoes, but it was delicious to him. Sentral was actually a good cook, and she had little to work with, but it was good considering the limitations.

"Sweet as always, Sen!" he grinned, grabbing the silverware and cutting the fish into smaller pieces.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Hey, don't call me that! And pray before you eat."

"I don't pray," he shrugged, biting a piece of meat from the fork, and speaking in between chews. "You know that!"

"I forgive you," she sighed, then clasped her hands together for a moment silently, and began to nibble on a spoon of potatoes.

Trop lifted a glass of dark-colored liquid with ice to his lips. It wasn't often that they got to have something other than hard water to drink. Sniffing it, he could tell from the sweet scent it was soda. As it hit his lips, he smiled a little, enjoying that feeling of the heat from his muzzle tip drain, and eying the rainbow colors on the ice from the dim light shining through the kitchen window.

He sat the glass down, and yelped. "Ouch!" He cradled his wrist, and looked down to see a small piece of wood sticking in him. "Damn it, that again. We need something to cover the table!"

"I don't have anything other than clothes, and I'm not the one who's going to have splinters up my ass when I dress." Sentral rose up, walked over and looked at his wrist. "It's fine, I'll get the tweezers."

With a soft whimper, Trop nodded, "O-okay. Hurry, please."

"Don't worry," she cooed motherly, and pet him. The coyote was nice, even if she was a little strict sometimes. Not too long after, she returned and quickly removed the splinter from her friend.

"Ahh," he moaned in relief. "Thanks, you're a life saver, Sen."

She winced. "Yeah, don't mention it. Anyways, it's late. I cooked, so you clean. I'm sleeping, you better, too."

"Alright," he cheerfully agreed, grabbing the dishes. Eating always put the young fox in a good mood, and he carried the dirty things and put them in the steel sink. The apartment was actually pretty clean thanks to Sentral's efforts, and only a bit of rust existed around the sinks and tub, but even that wasn't very bad. Nonetheless, it was still badly rundown, which explained how they could afford it. The wallpaper had been long gone, the ceiling had water damage, and the walls were too thin, making the sounds of sex a regular occurrence. They were lucky the pipes hadn't frozen.

"And search for another job! You can't just keep stealing," she tried to sound angry, but her voice faltered. "But, I know you do it for me. I don't make enough. So, even if you cause trouble... thanks."

Trop flicked his ears, and turned to her. "Did you say tha-?" before he finished, her bedroom door had shut. She was off to sleep.

The dishes were cleaned, candles blown out, and the fox trotted into his own room, locking the door. He did so since he liked to sleep naked, and Sen would get mad at him for it, saying it got the sheets dirty, but it was too comfortable for Trop to care. He kicked his clothes off into a corner, and laid down, springs creaking as he did. Moonlight shined through the bedroom window, covering the fox in a silver glow as he stared out past the frosted glass, and at the moon and stars.

"I could get a job," he whispered to himself, propping his head up on his palms as he laid still. "I'd get paid something every week, and we might make it okay... But what kind of life is that?" No one replied other than the sound of the wind, and a few creaks of the apartment. "I want an adventure. I want to really live."

**

The scent burned Sentral's nose. Even with a rag wrapped around her face, she still grimaced. Breathing through her mouth only made it worse, she learned before.

With haste, she cleaned the wooden planks of the filthy bathroom floor with a mop. Every day, it was always flooded with the piss of drunken customers who couldn't see straight, or those who just thought it was funny to make a mess. It amazed Sentral how childish people were when they were alone - even Trop wasn't as bad as some of the people who came to the Flirty Mug. What kind of name was that, anyways?

The worst part came next. With a creak, a stall door opened, barely hanging on its ancient hinges. Sentral dunked the mop into a metal can of soapy water, and brought it to the shit-caked toilet. The cheap booze often gave people quite a bad case, and it didn't go down well in the toilets. It smelled, but as soon as she started literally stirring shit up, it smelled worse until she was finished. Like fresh layers under the outer one had hidden scents, all waiting just for her. It was difficult, but she managed to hold back the vomit by breathing as little as possible, until the job was done.

After dumping the water into a sink, she kicked the bathroom entrance open, nearly running to get out of there. More than anything, she hated this job, but it was better than stealing. She preferred to avoid the front of the bar where most of the customers were, and went from the bathroom hall straight across to the janitor's closet, pulled out a key from her jacket pocket

When she closed and locked the door again, she noticed a a flyer tacked onto the janitor door. Advertisements were always strung around over the bar, so it wasn't unusual, but the title caught her eye.

Help wanted: 5,000 pieces reward!

'That much?, It must be a scam.' Still, she read on anyways. No harm in that much.

Need capable adventurers into the Forest of Eternal Winter. Might be dangerous. If interested, meet me at the Square between midnight and one on any weekend. Due date: 1/31

In the center of the poster was a picture of the commissioner, a young adult male red panda with glasses. Looked like he wore mage robes, too. Name: Coe.

"Might be?! Well, no shit!" she yelled, throwing her arms up. At that moment, a stumbling male bull who had been on his way to relieve himself stopped in his tracks, and the two had an awkward moment of eye contact. "Uhm, sorry."

"No need to apahlagize," he slurred, smiling. Oh no, not that look! She knew what that meant.

Laughing and nodding, "Right then! Well, I'll be on my way." She bowed, and ran past him. The bull tried to call out for her to wait, but Sentral was long gone. Her job for today was done, and it was time to go home.

Another depressing night at the dinner table waited for the two. At least the food was different, beans and corn.

"Any luck? Sentral asked, not making eye contact. The question was only for conversation, as she knew the likely answer.

A shake of his head confirmed it, and Trop chewed on his food. He mixed the beans and corn together into one pile, since he thought it made it taste more interesting. Not better, just new. Sentral ate normally.

"Sorry," he sighed after swallowing. Not speaking with his mouth full went much appreciated. "I didn't steal today, but I did find something," he grinned, and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper from his pants pocket, spreading it out over the table.

Leaning up from the table, the coyote looked it over. "Ah, I saw the same poster at work," she sat back down. "The one about the forest, right?"

"Yeah!" Trop clapped his hands, and smiled broadly. "We could eat forever with that much."

"It would only last a few months," she leered at him. "It's a ridiculous idea. You know the stories, it's dangerous there."

Much to her surprise, the fox slammed his fists down on the table, rattling the plates. She stared at him with wide eyes, not sure how to respond to the outburst.

Trop growled, "I don't care." Sentral only looked confused, or maybe scared. "I can't sit here like this, barely getting by. Maybe I can get some barely acceptable work like you, but what kind of life is that? I'm going to meet this Coe guy, even if it's by myself."

"But...!" she started, and reached out to her friend. But before anything else could be done, the white fox rose up and headed to the front door.

"It's a little early, but I'm anxious to meet him. I'll be back later, don't worry." He spoke without looking to her, and his voice was filled with frustration.

Maybe she had been too strict, or looked down on him too much. The guilt crippled her, and she lowered her hand, saying nothing else. The door opened and closed, and one less person occupied the home.

By day, the market square would always be bustling with cart merchants, people walking, kids running. The sounds of metal being pounded into shape, hundreds of feet padding along, voices yelling or screaming. It was enough to make those not used to it pass out, even if they are not particularly repelled by large crowds, the northern and southern arch entrances providing barely enough room for the rush people. At night, it was much calmer. Mostly prostitutes, drug dealers, rapists and thieves were all to worry about, and a few of the all-night inn and taverns remained open for business. Nothing Trop couldn't handle, he told himself, keeping his hands in his pockets as he walked the cobbled streets of his neighborhood and entered the square.

Every step, he could see shadowy people giving him looks. They probably only wondered what a kid was doing out at this time, but it was intimidating. They all seemed to wear clothes that hid them - hats tilted down over the front of their face, hooded overcoats. One particular grinning canine had a knife, leaning against a brick wall of an alleyway, picking food from between his fangs with the tip. A vixen in an extravagant red dress gave him a wink and blew a kiss, making the young male blush and turn his head away. So, if he wanted to, even he could...?

In a corner, against a wall next to a closed armory shop of the square, a tall, thin red panda stood. Casually, he was leaning against the wall with his hands held behind his head, humming a simple tune to himself. A lit candle lantern sat on the ground next to him, thankfully not on top of anything flammable. The tiny flickering light made the mage's blue robes shimmer, as if glitter or crystal was embedded over the surface of his clothing. His fur, unlike many who lived here, was clean, and his glasses unscratched. The collar was upturned, and his headfur slightly unkempt, a few strands hanging over his eyes. Either he wasn't from here, or he lived a sheltered life that did not expose him to Fubis' dirt. Considering he presumably did nothing but study magic textbooks all day, the latter, if not both, was probably true.

Trop did not know what to expect, but he confidently held his arms to his sides, stood straight, and walked forward.

"Hello," the fox called out, perhaps a little too loud. The red panda flicked his ears and looked down to the young cub.

He didn't reply at first, and instead looked around. "You lost? I'm quite busy, so if you're looking for your parents..."

"No!" He bared his fangs, and shook his head. "I'm here for the ads you've been putting around all over town."

"Oh?" the older male squinted his eyes a little, and had a slight smile. His voice, Trop a little too mentally occupied to pay attention to such a thing until now, was deep and smooth, alluring even. It had the sound of intelligence and mystery. Coe was at least a foot and a half taller, which became more apparent when he bent down to the kid's level, observing him as he circled around.

"Tattered clothes, knots in fur over the whole body, probably hasn't had a good bath in quite some time. A year? More? Poor. Slightly underweight. Not one who seems able to care for himself. Cannot live alone... Probably an orphan." The white fox looked offended at this point, and his eyes begged for the point of this. "Who cares for you?"

He crosses his arms. "Sentral, my... adoptive sister. You can all those things just by looking at me?"

"Yes." Coe shrugged and grinned.

After a brief moment, Trop cleared his throat. "So, about the job?"

"This isn't really a job, you know," the blue-robed male sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "It's quite dangerous. I'm looking into a rumor, and for something rare. What kind of reputation would I have if a couple of kids died under my supervision?"

"A couple?" The fox tilted his head, confused. Coe raised a finger, pointing to the northern archway. In the darkness, upon squinting, Trop could see someone eavesdropping.

The coldness of the night made it more obvious upon closer inspection. A cloud of breath, although held back and slow, was visible. Sentral hadn't thought of covering her mouth, and in her defeat, walked into the light of the lantern.

"Hey," she waved, not looking directly at them.

"Sen?" the fox asked, turning to her and taking a step closer. He was surprised she would come out here for him. Trop was brave to the point of stupidity, but he still knew it wasn't entirely safe at night, and after their fight, why would she do this?

Coe raised a hand in greeting. "You're the caretaker, I presume."

"Wise assumption," Sentral sarcastically remarked, fidgeting with her skirt a little. "So, you're the mage that's gotten into my friend's fantasy?"

A nod. "Apparently so," the red panda looked down at Trop. "In any case, you heard most of our discussion. You two live alone, I take it? No good guardian or parent would let you walk at night in such poor clothing. If that be the case," he paused for effect, raising a pointing finger dramatically. "No one else has responded to my call for action. As much as I dislike it, given no alternative, I am willing to take you two to the forest with me."

"Really?!" Trop asked excitedly, fists clenched, and his tail flicked about. Coe nodded.

But Sentral said nothing for a long moment. "Trop knows how I feel about this, but I know he'll do what he wants regardless. He's like a brother, I can't let him go alone..." She sighed, and closed her eyes.

"I see," the red panda chuckled. "Do you know any magic? I wouldn't expect much from some so young, but you're obviously not going to be the best at direct combat."

"Combat?!" The excitement in the white-furred boy's voice was so thick, he could drop over and faint.

Sentral shook her head. "I don't know much, I can't cast spells. I used to be interested, but life happens, you know?" She shrugged. "I've read some books, I know the basic stuff about inner energy."

"Good enough," Coe waved. "I can teach you something simple on our way. What about you?"

Trop shook his head. "Nope, nothing!" Such a reply did not warrant him hanging his tongue out, panting like an excited puppy about to be taken for a walk.

"He's good at stealing," the coyote rolled her eyes during her utterance. "He can get around without being caught. Sometimes."

"Oh yeah, that!" Trop slapped a fist into a palm. "I can do that. So, 5,000 pieces, right?"

"But we barely know this guy," Sentral reached out, grabbing one of her friend's wrists. "We shouldn't jump into this plan."

The white fox pouted, and was about to complain before Coe put a hand on his shoulders.

"We're not leaving immediately anyways." He looked between the two of them, and then pulled out a small pouch, handed it to Sentral. "Let's meet up again tomorrow, after you're rested and you decide if this job is for you. You can use this money to buy some supplies, and I won't take it out of your reward. If you decide to stay here, and live your normal life destined to go nowhere, you can keep the money. I think you two look as if you need it more than I."

"The way you worded that seems like it leads us on, doesn't it?" The coyote raised a cautious eyebrow.

Coe grinned, "I did try to make it sound like you don't have a good choice. Did I do it well?"

"Yeah!" Trop cheered, then folded his ears down when he realized he had yelled it a bit too loudly.

With that, the red panda gave a small salute and walked off, and Trop looked happily to his friend. Sentral's expression was of subtle annoyance, but she exhaled and closed her eyes.

She looked up to the sky, and for a moment, could almost understand the fox's urge of wanting to escape into something bigger, "Whatever. Come on, let's at least get some rest."

**

The sounds of hooves padding hard against the stone path intermixed with the sharp breeze of the wind. It was deafening, making conversations almost impossible. Not more than a few feet could be seen in all directions beyond the magic-drawn carriage. Wind never stopped blowing for a second, the snowflakes acting more like knives, piercing into the skin, melting and soaking into the fabrics of their clothes and fur, and freezing over as more flakes fell. The three passengers stayed close to one another, the heat of their bodies preventing them from freezing to death in the endless snowstorm. Coe's robes must have been pretty warm, since he had no change of clothing other than a cloth hat, while the two others had used the money given to them to buy worn hooded coats. Perhaps the only other sound that could be heard, if one of them were to try hard enough to listen, was that of teeth chattering. It was a wonder how the horses could stand it, even if they had warm coverings.

"Wh-why the h-oly..." Sentral began, her face completely numb, making it exceedingly difficult to speak clearly. She took a moment, and forced it. "Why the holy hell did we go in an open fucking carriage!"

"L-language, little one!" Coe seemed to be similar problems. His glasses were caked in ice, and the other two wondered if he could actually see through them still. "I had to make up for paying your fees somehow."

The arctic fox was not used to the weather. Growing up in the city had made him sensitive to the cold. Even if it got cold there, there were always candles or fireplaces to huddle before. Here, out where the stars fell and blew in the wind, in the Forest of Eternal Winter, it was different. The only things out here other than frozen rain, trees that had never grown leaves, and rumored monsters, was the carriage, horses, his friend, and the employer.

Several times as they journeyed, the two would ask variations of "Are we there yet," or even "What the hell are we doing here again?" Coe would only say, "Just a little more. You'll see soon enough."

Conversations were not popular in such weather. However, screams were all the rage when the carriage flipped from what seemed like a sudden impact. Wood shards flew in the air, some of the shrapnel embedding itself into Trop as he was thrown off the carriage and fell on a snowy hill, where he proceeded to roll down, unconscious.

When he came to, he wasn't sure how long he had been out for, and the surrounding scenery did not seem familiar; he was in an open flat clearing. Snowfall must have covered any relevant tracks, and he didn't even seen the hill he remembered falling from. It mattered not, his body had no feeling of any kind in it, and a small pool of blood was gathered near his arms. At the first spot of red, he gasped and looked carefully for a source, and saw the pieces of carriage that had buried itself in him. Not knowing any better, he reached for them with his unharmed hand, pulling them out with a sharp hiss of pain. Blood oozed out once more, but he at least had the sensibility to put pressure the wound after.

As soon as he staggered up on his feet, he immediately regretted it and fell back down, too exhausted to even scream in pain. His left leg hurt as soon as he had stood, and he reached down, feeling it through his pants. A futile effort, for he was too cold to feel anything, which was partly why he was so shocked standing had hurt that much.

Did I break it? I can't pay for treatment, was his first coherent thought on the matter. He mustered his strength, and took a deep breath, "Seeeen! Cooooe!" No reply.

Knowing he can't just lay there and wait to freeze to death, he carefully rose back up, only using his right leg, limping a few inches at a time. He was going to the nearest gathering of trees about thirty feet from him, and every centimeter took more than all of his energy. But eventually, he made it, and threw himself down, letting the tree block the wind. Oddly, every few minutes, the direction of the wind would change, hitting him in the face, as if chasing down a weakened prey. At first, he crawled around the tree, but after the fourth time, he was too tired. Fine, just kill me and get it over with. Some adventure this was...

Just as his eyes began to close from overwhelming fatigue, a loud snap tore into the white fox's ears, and more sharp wooden splinters flew in the air. Thankfully, none of this hurt him, but the tree behind him was now completely gone, save for a pathetic stump, the rest of it knocked over, the body rolling a few feet beyond the nearby broken bits.

Drool oozed out of the monstrous feral mutt's mouth, breath so foul that snow singed and melted in its path, and Trop could smell it from here, gagging him. Its eyes were blank, as if blind, but it stared right at its food. Fur snow white and muzzle black, it was hard to see against the surroundings, making good camouflage. It took a step closer to Trop, snarling. Paralyzed in fear, only a tiny squeak escaped the fox's muzzle as he weakly tried to worm back. The monster almost seemed to grin at the meal, knowing Trop was simply too tired and hurt to do anything. With a forepaw, the mutt shoved the boy down on his back, and leaned with its weight onto him. This time, he found the strength to scream, and pushed against the heavy beast, which felt like it must've weighed more than the young adventurer.

Its breath blew right into Trop's nose as it opened wide, and the smell made him puke a little in the back of his throat. The monster leaned down, ready to take a bite and finish the job.

It wouldn't be too bad on the road until they reached the Forest. Coe had enough time to give them some basic lessons, and thought it would be simple enough to just do it on the trip.

"First, clear your mind," the red panda held up a finger for his first point. "Frantic or angry spellcasting can make dangerous situations worse for yourself. It doesn't work well and mostly hurts yourself."

"Even if we're trying to kill something?!" Trop flicked his ears about excitedly, clearly not in the right mood for this.

Sentral held her hands to her sides smugly. She knew this much, at least. "Of course. It's just like cooking or anything else that requires delicate, careful lady-like precision. You might not be able to do it, unsurprisingly." The fox scowled playfully, and Sentral laughed.

Coe smiled a little, too, and continued. "The most basic offensive spell should be enough for you to defend yourself. It can't kill, however, and you sholdn't want to even if it could..."

Oh, right!

It would be easier if he wasn't literally staring into the jaws of death. "Clear mind, clear mind," he muttered to himself. After retracting one of his arms, Trop extended a single finger and pressed it against the beast's chest. For a moment, it froze in confusion, and tilted its head. Then, it swung its head back and jumped off, flailing on the ground like a fish as it yelped in pain. Trop expected it to scurry off, and shook a fist at it. "Yeah, take that, you prick!" Surprisingly, though, it didn't do anything other than keeling over.

"It's not supposed to kill," Trop whispered to himself. Like every intelligent person ever, he rose himself up, and walked over to the possibly still alive murderous animal. Fear and anticipation filled him, his body limping forward on its own without him thinking. It didn't move even when he was standing over it, waiting to be pounced and eaten in pieces. With a gulp, he lightly tapped at it with his broken leg, and still nothing. If he was smarter, he would've noticed steam wasn't coming out of its mouth or nose, and its chest was not rising.

"It's, it's really dead, I killed it." He didn't feel as cheerful or happy as he thought he'd be. This was the adventure he always wanted, but being frozen and hurt detracted from it, and killing living things, even if monsters, felt bad. He raised the hand that had killed the beast, looking at it. "But, how? It wasn't supposed to..."

"It was already very hurt," a voice interrupted.

Trop assumed it must've been Coe, and spoke as he turned around to face him. "Oh, man! I'm glad to see y-!"

Rather than Coe, a snow white wolf stood there, his eyes as neon blue as a glowing sunny sky. His headfur was long and outgrown. The man's body was quite lithe, easier to tell given his complete lack of clothing. He was slightly shorter than Coe, and his voice was softer, more feminine.

"Who..." Trop began. He wasn't ready for another fight."

A warm, soft smile covered his face, and he looked to the dead creature, and back to the boy. "They don't like killing sleeping prey. Quite disgusting creatures... They enjoy the fear more than the food. That one's mannerisms suggested it was wounded. If you were wondering why it died, that's why."

'Why is he smiling while saying such things...?' After thinking on what was said for a moment, Trop suddenly seemed angry. "Why didn't you help me as soon as you saw all that?"

"I cannot interfere." The answer was so plain, the smile almost came off as fake at this point.

Trop stepped forward, ready to throw a fist at the prick, but tripped after forgetting about his leg. The wolf caught him.

"Hey, careful," he whispered sweetly, and reached down and touched the boy's leg. Panic at first made Trop push at the stranger, but then the pain was gone suddenly. "Try walking now."

"What are you doing, don't to-" As soon as he tried to step back, he immediately noticed his leg had improved. Pulling the pant leg up, he saw that it looked healthy. No bruises, cuts, or anything else. It was still very much vulnerable to the weather, and he pulled the pant leg back down. "How?"

A small chuckle. "How direct. You were hurt, weren't you?" The fox nodded, suspicion still in his eyes. "I made you better. That's all."

"But, how?" He stomped in frustration, also proving his leg was healed at the same time. The only reply he got was a confused look, and a shrug. "Well, whatever. Let's go, we have to find my friends. How the hell I'd get out here anyways? Do you know?"

"I do not," the wolf stated, his voice sounded distracted. "Ah, the weather. It never stops snowing here, you know?"

Trop began walking in a random direction. He didn't know where to start, so one was as good as any, and the stranger followed. "Well, that would be why they call it the Forest of Eternal Winter, wouldn't it? How do you not freeze without clothes, man?!"

"How indeed," he laughed, and spread his arms, hugging the sky as the snow fell on him. His fur almost seemed to shine like the moon in the snow.

"Weirdo," the boy muttered, continuing his walk and mostly ignoring the happy humming his new companion started making. Even Trop wasn't this weird, he was merely hyperactive.

The two kept walking. It must have been twenty minutes or more, and healed leg or not, Trop was still completely exhausted. He fell down to his knees, the cold ground sapping the heat from his legs. It felt like he might as well be not be wearing clothes at all, the damn things were so useless. "Should've bought more than just a coat," he huffed.

"I sense something," the wolf noted, and pointed to their right. It was the first time he had sounded serious during the whole event, too.

Trop raised an eyebrow. "Sense? What do you mean by that?"

A strong gust kicked up a wave of snow, most of it falling on the two, burying them momentarily. "Dicks!" the fox cursed impulsively, digging himself out and looking about. Was that just a sudden strong wind, or the thing that had been 'sensed'?

"Get away from him, kid!" a smooth, intelligent voice yelled.

The snow settled, and Trop could make out two familiar figures standing at a slightly higher elevation. "Coe? Sen?!" He got up, and began running to them happily, loose wet white powder kicking up with every footstep. When he reached his friends, he hugged Sen, and she actually kissed his cheek. He blushed, surprised at it for the moment, but it didn't last.

"I was right," Coe confirmed, keeping a serious look locked on the white wolf, who only smiled and tilted his head. The red panda stood in front of the kids protectively. "Stay back."

"Greetings," the wolf bowed, but Coe sneered.

Trop let go of Sentral and stepped in front of the mage, getting his attention. "Hey, what's wrong? He helped me."

"What?" Coe widened his eyes. "You do know what that thing is, don't you? It's not a 'he'."

"I am not?" The wolf looked down at his nude body, and then back up to the hostile one. "However, I do appear to be."

"That person, 'he' is..." The snow fall seemed to kick up, but only around the smiling wolf. Those blue eyes sparkled as he and the shining cat stared at one another. "...an elemental."

A gasp emitted from the coyote girl's muzzle, and she looked back to the naked wolf. "An elemental? But, but no one's ever seen one, right? How would you know? They're not even known to be real!" She seemed to be trying to deny it, yet was shocked. Sentral knew a little about the tall tales regarding them, and the wolf's details did match quite well.

"What's an elemental?" the white wolf asked, his smile broadening enough to expose his fangs, and his mouth hung ajar. He seemed quite fascinated with the discussion.

Coe scoffed. "As if you don't know! And, it's true that no one has seen an elemental, and no one would know one if they saw it. Except for me."

"The fuck's an elemental!" Trop interjected, repeating the wolf vulgarly, and equally ignored by the only two with any idea on what was going on.

The mage crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he explained more. "I had been investigating what's been happening in the Forest for awhile. It's strange that for time immemorial, it's always been the same here. The weather never changes regardless of season, and everyone accepts it because we all grew up with it. Most mages acknowledge that something magical is probably behind it, perhaps even an elemental, but as no one ever saw one, and given how dangerous it is to even venture here, people accept that it would always remain something unknown. An interesting anomaly in the world, all theories unproven.

"But I saw one. Three years ago, I saw one, and I know it because I summoned it. I know their characteristics better than any book. You," he pointed to Sentral, "must recognize that he appears to glow, both in eyes and fur, and appears resistant to his own element. But there are finer details."

"Like what?" the wolf asked, stepping closer.

The action drew a hostile glare from Coe. "Well, for example, your footsteps leave no prints."

Everyone looked behind the alleged elemental at that point, and saw that the ground behind him indeed had no prints. Around him were only Trop's, when he ran to his friends' embrace. Sentral gulped audibly, and Trop flicked his ears.

"What's it mean to be an elemental? What do they do?" the fox asked, tugging at the mage's robes.

This time, he wasn't ignored. "Elementals are lost souls, wandering about with no purpose until they go insane." A cloud of snow sharply blew between the groups and the distanced wolf, their fur waving in the air dramatically during the pause of words.

"I see," the white wolf nodded, and began pacing back and forth. "So, I'm dead? Weird, I only remember walking around here for a short time. You're sure of this?"

"Can you cast magic?" the white fox yelled, and he ran out to the wolf. His two allies reached for him, calling on him to wait, but to no avail. "Like when you healed me?"

A confused head tilt. "Magic? You were hurt, I made you better. I-"

"That was magic!" Trop interrupted. The wolf smiled, and pet him, which made the fox blush.

"Then... yes."

Sentral looked to Coe with a slightly worried face. "Well, what do we do about him? He did help Trop, he doesn't seem to be harmful."

"I don't know," the mage honestly responded with a shrug, and shook his head. "He's not mindless like elementals are said to be."

Trop hugged the strange wolf, who looked down at him with his beautiful, hypnotic eyes. In those eyes was a hidden warmth that could melt any frost. "Let him come with us."

"W-what?!" Sentral exclaimed. "Our horses were killed, and we don't even have a carriage anymore, let alone a place for the mutt to sleep!"

"I'm also not splitting the reward with it," Coe growled, turning his head to his side and closing his eyes. "I only want to remove it from the Forest."

"Why?" the wolf asked.

A red eye peered open, peering at the questioner. "Because if I remove you, the weather should improve. If the winter in the Forest of Eternal Winter ends, I'll become the most famous mage to ever cast. The reward I'm giving will be a drop of water compared to my future."

"I knew it!" Trop laughed, and pointed a finger to the taller adult. "You were doing all this for your own gain. Such a conniving mage. Little better than a thief." He rubbed his hands together, chuckling, as if he admired it. Sentral slapped the back of his head, making the fox yip.

"This is serious," she growled, and glared at him. Trop gulped, and calmed down.

The naked canine held his arms behind his back, and stretched out a little. He didn't seem to be concerned about the situation, "You could kill me and not worry about the rest."

"We could, but..." The mage hummed in thought to himself, rubbing a chin. "You could help us. Trop's suggestion of you coming with us could be profitable," he chuckled to himself, the greed practically showing over the frosted glasses.

Sentral furrowed her brows at the mage, "Well, I thought I wasn't the only adult here, but I was mistaken. What are we going to do with him?! Where does he sleep? Come on! Think, idiots!" Everyone looked at her in surprise at her outburst. "Am I going to feed him, clothe him, house him? I... I..."

A soft paw fell on her shoulder, and she looked up. The white wolf was suddenly before her. Everyone had jumped back in surprise. "How did you move so-" she began, but was interrupted.

"I will not be a burden to you," he whispered to her soothingly. The soft sound of the strange male's voice actually made her feel better; there was a definitive charm to it. She looked more calm. "I promise."

"Well, first of all," Coe began, poking the wolf back and pushing him away from the girl. "Tell us your name."

"Feh," the neon-blue eyed creature nodded, and extended a hand. Coe hesitated, but eventually accepted the handshake.

Trop flicked his ears, "Weird name, it sounds more like a sound. Oh well."

"I suppose," Feh waved off, and looked out into the blackish horizon.

"Well," Coe began with a hint of annoyance. "We're going to have to walk out, and in this weather, it's going to be difficult. Our transportation is, as you know, no longer available."

"You don't like the weather?" the wolf asked, a slight frown for once on his face, and his head tilted. All three others looked at him with a deadpan look.

Feh closed his eyes. Gradually, but instantly noticeable, the sharp piercing wind slowed down. Tears that had frozen in everyone's eyes no longer freely flowed, and after a few blinks and having wiped their faces, they noticed the wind had, in fact, stopped. The snow kept falling, but not in such thick amounts that it obscured vision. But perhaps the thing everyone took into notice more than the rest was the fact that the wolf's fur began to darken, becoming a gray, and then blackening. He opened his eyes, which were now a pretty, but natural, emerald green.

"There you go. Is that better?" he asked them with genuine care.

For a moment, everyone stared at him in astonishment. Before the young ones could ask anything, Coe held up a hand to stop them, and nodded, "Yes. Much better, thank you. You're going to need clothes, though. You can't just walk into town like that."

"Ah, I see," Feh calmly nodded. "Well, we can wait until we leave, at least. I prefer being like that."

"You look good," Trop grinned.

Sentral looked to the side, and seemed a little annoyed, "Let's just try to make this quick then so you put something on!"

"Thank you, Sen." The wolf pat her on the head.

That annoyed her more. "Oh, now don't you start that!" She pushed his hand away. "Trop calls me that against my will. I hate that nickname."

"My apologies, Sentral," he held up his palms apologetically.

"Let's just start moving!" she groaned, and began walking off.

The rest followed, with Coe confirming the directions along the way. Although none of them pointed it out, Feh was leaving footprints as he walked. He even shivered a little, but unlike the others, he seemed to like it, breathing in deeply and holding his breath to soak in the coldness, and moaning a little. It was weird to the others, and they ignored it, or at least tried to.

Even without the snow falling as much and the wind not blowing away all their body heat, the walk was still difficult. Trop eventually stumbled in his footsteps and nearly fell down, but without a word being said by Feh, he grabbed his shoulder and kept him from falling, and then lifted him up and carried him effortlessly. The kid did weigh nothing appreciably difficult, after all.

"H-hey, that's embarrassing!" he squeaked out, and wiggled trying to get free.

"Stop," he ordered, but with kindness. "You're too tired. Just sleep in my arms, like this."

The fox whimpered, scrunching up a little in a ball, and saying nothing. He was blushing, but it was true, he was extremely exhausted and could barely walk at this point. Sentral began laughing, bringing attention to her.

As she pointed at Trop, she contained her laughter long enough only to talk, "Oh, you big baby! You need to be carried like, like..." Unable to hold it back any longer, she cut herself off and fell down in a fit of humor. Coe reached down to her, wiped some snow from her body, and lifted her up in an identical fashion.

"Indeed, such a big baby," the smooth-voiced spellcaster complained with sarcasm and a grin. Sentral, opening her mouth to complain, yawned loudly, her long coyote tongue curling into a C before her mouth closed again.

She scowled up at Coe, "Shut up, never tell anyone this." Then, she closed her eyes, only wanting to fall asleep as quickly as possible, and with the desire to not remember any of the events preceding the nap. Her brother eventually followed suit. Coe and Feh laughed together with the two sleeping cubs in their arms, and a thought came to them.

"You know what you do when someone sleeps in your arms like this?" the mage asked with a small grin.

He closed his eyes, humming in though. "I believe I know what you're thinking, yes."

It was a simultaneous, shared though, with no other words being requiring exchange. They simply both nodded in agreement.

Black-tipped fingers of Coe curled up, and reached down to the coyote's sides. He could feel the heat coming from her body, slightly dampening his fur from melted frost. His finger etched closer to her in slow motion, natural static tingling the male's fingers until he made contact with her waist, in between her coat and pants. After lifting her coat up just a bit, she shivered in her slumber. The bare, hot fur brushed against his fingers, and he bit his bottom lip, holding back for as long as he could. Of course, he never intended to really stop himself. His fingers dived down, and pushed past her thick fur, tips brushing against her skin. That same second, Sentral's eyes shot open.

She squirmed instantly, trying to push the hand away from herself. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Nothing~!" The bare fingers rubbing on her skin, before cold, began to warm. Static pinched Sentral, making her shut her eyes tightly and yelled.

With all the struggling that had been put up, the two fell to the ground together. Coe dropped the coyote on the ground, and she immediately tried to scramble away. But she was quickly pinned down, the mage much heavier and stronger compared to her, even if he was a lightweight. Unable to wiggle free, and her chest buried in the snow, the red panda once again began sliding his hand underneath her shirt.

"Pervert!" she growled, and snapped her jaw at him, but nothing was in reach to bite. "I knew we shouldn't have taken this job!"

"You never tried too hard to avoid it," he replied calmly.

Having woken up from the noise, Trop tried to push himself free from the wolf's arms, yelling to the other two on the ground, "Hey, leave my sis alone!"

"Whoops!" Feh sarcastically cooed, bringing Trop down with him. The young fox had his limbs pinned down with his back against the ground. "Wow, what an embarrassing position~"

Something else filled the air, ringing in all four's ears. It was high-pitched, and the small white fox looked over with a bewildered look. "Sen? You okay?..." She was giggling.

"Hahaha, n-nooo~!" she cried. Every effort of hers to push and kick the bigger male from her were futile.

Every wiggle was futile; she simply could not get free. Although the chilling snow lay beneath her bare back, the cold could hardly be felt. Coe's heat radiated out over her, warming the air in her body each time she gasped. He dug his finger in deep, past her fur, and every slight movement of the mage's fingertips against Sentral's skin elicited feminine laughter from her. "F-fu-haha-cker!" Even if she yelled angry things, her face was a bright red, and her muzzle hung open with a smile as the uncontrollable giggles mixed with swears ensued. It made Coe smile a little, too.

"It'll be much easier on you if you calm down and hold still," Feh whispered, trying to be comforting to his new little friend.

Trop was not calming down much, unfortunately. He was writhing underneath, and turning his blushing red face away. "A naked wolf is on top of me while my sister is being... tickle-raped, and I'm supposed to calm down!"

"Correct. I'm glad we have an understanding," the black-furred male perked his ears up happily and nodded. "Now, what part of you is most susceptible?"

Of course, Trop didn't say anything that would be useful. Every wiggle on the ground kicked up some of the powdery snow, covering the two. The dancing fingers started at the boy's sides, changing from gentle, teasing caresses to deep grinds. Unlike his 'sister,' the fox was much less ticklish, but whenever those fingers dug deep and even the claws scratching over him, he clenched his teeth and his face became slightly red.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" Feh asked with real worry in his voice, even stopping his assault.

With the momentary break, the boy gasped for air, as he had been holding it all in with all his strength. "No, it didn't hurt, but..." His face, still red despite having all the air he wants, now turned shyly as he whimpered out quietly, "... You can keep going, if you want."

Trop stared down, watching those fingers wander down his body. They had stopped torturing him, despite his obvious begging for more. The curiosity left him as he felt crisp air touching his feet; a shoe had been tugged off.. "N-no, not there!" the fox whined, pulling his foot back, but Feh gripped his angle tightly and kept it in place.

"Oh, not here? Well, I'm going to find out why not!" he growled playfully. Feh kept his grip on the ankle, and stuck a finger of his free hand into his maw, soaking it. Once wet, he dipped it into the snow, picking up some. Trop had been kind enough to not thrash about as the hand edged its way closer at an agonizingly slow speed. The fox's toes curled, his fangs bared, and he shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable.

The snow-tipped finger was felt before it even touched. Simply being near the icy finger made the kit shiver, and his curiosity drove him wild, forcing a yellow eye to peek open. Feh seemed pleased to be watched, and gave the fox exactly what he wanted. With a near lust, the finger stabbed into the white heel, electric jolts running up his foot. He grunted and rolled his eyes closed while trying to pull his foot away instinctively, but not truly wanting to escape.

Trop did not only break into a fit of laughter, digging his fingers into the snow beneath him. The fox was actually moaning. Feh couldn't help but laugh at how cute it was, and then took it a step further. Something warm and wet glided over the the kit's furred foot. With one eye winced closed, Trop leaned up and looked at his attacker and saw a large red tongue licking over him. Saliva soaked the fur, and the licking matted it down. Shimmering dribbles of saliva fell from the footpaw, forming a small pool on the ground below. It was at this point that the young male began to break down. His face had reddened from holding his breath, his chest convulsed, and after a fit of squirming that could have formed a thousand snow angels, that was it.

All the air in his lungs escaped him. The laughter erupted from him, and his face and eyes seemed to almost glow from all of it. He couldn't take much more, and began to kick with his other leg. Before it could hit anything, Feh caught it and forced it down, sitting a knee on the leg to keep it still, and holding the other with both arms. The wolf's wet tongue pushed its way in between the exposed toes, and after a few laps in between each set, he gave a few delicate nibbles to the furred flesh. It happened repeatedly, and Trop was clutching his chest, gasping and wheezing. "I, can't," the boy managed to squeal out. Feh, however, ignored the pleas for mercy.

Just before the blue-faced fox passed out, Feh yelped loudly and jumped back, looking to see what just stung him like a bee. Sentral seemed to have done the same to Coe, who looked a little sick with pain was picking up his iced glasses from the ground. She picked her brother up from the ground, and shoved his shoe in his arms, nearly knocking him over again.

"Damn perverts." she yelled, turning to the two non-orphans. A finger pointed to Coe. "How'd you like your own spell being used on you? You nearly killed me!"

Coe adjusted his glasses, and wiped off some of the snow that had stuck to his clothes. "Hm, how to say it? I guess I just couldn't help myself."

"See! I was right about them, Trop," Sentral turned to her brother.

Feh reached out and pat Trop's head, ruffling his fur and making the kid blush. "Well, your brother seemed to enjoy himself more than you. In any case, you're more awake, alert, and able to walk now, correct?" He tilted his head to Sentral, smiling,.

"If either of you ever touch me again, I'll smash your faces in," she growled.

This time, everyone laughed. Except for Sentral, of course, who huffed the rest of the way and stayed behind everyone else. She kept an eye on them, making sure no one got close. "We better get our money for this!" she barked.

**

The white forest laid behind them, and golden fields covered each side of the stone path in between that and the city. Dead yellow grass decorated the landscape as far as could be seen, other than the tall buildings of Fubis in the distance. While the sky was blue everywhere else, Fubis had a cloud of black smog above it. It was a rather depressing sight to behold. At least the air wasn't as freezing to the lungs, although it was still cold. With the dirty cloud facing them and the clean air inside them, it was at this time that the orphans realized that the air in the city was terrible. It wasn't quite as freezing, and the kids had their coats tied around the waist, and Feh was wearing the mage's blue robes, leaving Coe only with a white shirt and brown pants. They looked oddly plain for someone like him.

"Why is it so polluted there?" Trop asked out loud, not directing it at anyone specifically.

Sentral frowned, "Yeah. I never noticed how bad it was. I mean, I always kind of knew, but really looking at it now..."

Before they had even left the forest, Feh noticed a change in the air. Out here, it was as plain to him as actually seeing it. He stopped in his tracks, sniffed the air and glared at the city. When everyone noticed the elemental stop, they turned and looked at him.

"What is it now?" Sentral asked with an obvious hint of impatience. Trop looked at him worriedly, and Coe's expression was rather blank.

Feh sniffed again, deeply this time, seeming to be in thought for a moment before saying anything. "This smell... It seems familiar."

"Familiar?" Trop formed an 'oh' with his mouth, "Ah, maybe you're from Fubis and have amnesia! Or you could smell it all the way from the forest with your super magically enhanced canine senses! Like some kind of super hero."

Sentral raised a hand to smack him, and the fox raised his arms in defense. She stopped and rolled her eyes. "It's not worth it. I'd rather hit the others."

"How is it familiar?" Coe asked. He hid his expression by holding a hand in front of his face, acting to adjust his glasses, the sunlight shining over it.

Feh crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the ground. "It's, it's like," he began, but didn't seem to know the right words. He paced back and forth, one hand behind his back, another scratching his chin. Then, he snapped his fingers. "Ah, right! It smells like charcoal."

"Well, charcoal is used a lot for blacksmithing in Fubis. But tell me something," the red panda asked, stepping closer to the wolf. "Before you became what you are now, you remember having a life, right? You were a person?" Feh nodded. "Do you remember how long people lived, usually?"

"A little bit into the seventies, I guess," the black canine nodded.

"Seventy?!" Sentral's eyes went wide, and she ran to him, looking up in his eyes. "You're lying! No one lives that long."

"She's right," Trop waved his arms in surprise, too. "I haven't known too many people who made it into their fifties."

"But, I really do remember that," Feh smiled to them, speaking calmly as he often did. He walked forward again, passing the others, forcing them to follow along as well.

They continued to chat as they went. "But this is so confusing," the fox growled, and kicked at the ground while ruffling up his headfur in frustration.

"It'll make sense in time, I'm sure," Feh comforted.

By the time they reached the city, night had fallen. The group was tired, and Feh was carrying the boy fox, sleeping in his arms. Sentral watched carefully, both refusing to be carried and making sure her brother wasn't 'attacked' again. Feh's nose scrunched up with every step they got closer until he finally got in the city, at which point he had pulled the robes over his nose like a mask. It would have gotten odd looks if most people hadn't been asleep at this time of night, and the few still up were quite seedy anyways. If anything, it almost looked normal.

"Here's your payment," Coe said, pulling a satchel out of his pocket and tossing it to Sentral. She caught it, and opened it up, counting the pieces. "We should rest for at least a couple days, but now that we have Feh, we could do a lot more with ease."

"What do you mean, 'a lot more'?" she asked, not looking up from the money. Once she counted it, she stowed it away in a pocket.

Feh leaned in, clarifying for his companions. "I believe he means to say-"

"I know what he's saying!" Sentral hissed. "I'm trying to imply to him I'm not interested by playing dumb. What are you, a robot?"

"I am not." A big smile.

Coe grabbed the robes from the wolf, easily pulling them off like it was merely held on by velcro. It didn't even rip - likely by means of some kind of magic. While Feh didn't mind derobed, Sentral gasped and looked around, seeing if anyone notice. A few did, and they hurriedly scuffled away, moderately freaked out by the public nudity.

"What're you doing?!" she yelled under her breath.

"I need these back," Coe shrugged. He slipped the blue cloth back on, and looked over himself as if to make sure it still fit. "In any case, the money's real. I have to keep Feh in check, and things are getting pretty interesting, I think." He grinned at that, and then looked at her with concern. "And your brother will probably do something stupid with or without you. He's outgoing, and would make a good mage or adventurer, but he's wildly undisciplined."

"Tell me about it," she concurred. "But, he's still my only family. I love him," she whispered, and pet the sleeping fox's head. A small smile formed on the boy's muzzle, and his ears twitched in his sleep. "I'd follow him anywhere, and protect him from anything."

Coe nodded. "Good. Then see you in a couple days," he waved, and walked off.

Feh bid him farewell, and then turned to his new caretaker. "Well, where do you reside, Sen?"

"Don't call me that!" she half-barked, and turned to lead him. "Follow me, we live relatively close, past the market."

They went their way, avoiding the usual people offering drugs or sex. It was rather easy to do so, as many of them assumed Feh was one of those prostitutes who had already picked up a host, following her to the chosen mating site. The canine with a knife was still there, and as they passed him, he gave a whistle. "Lucky you," he snickered to the wolf, who only nodded in return, not getting the meaning of the gesture. Sentral simply ignored it.

"We're here."

Feh looked at the run-down building. It was made mostly of stone and wood, a metal frame giving some basic sturdiness to the frame. Once painted blue, it was now as brown, black, and ugly as the rest of the city. Sentral pushed the front door open, the glass window of it broken and replaced with nailed boards, the pathetic thing creaking as it revealed its innards. Feh slowly walked towards it at Sentral's beckoning, but before he entered, he extended a finger to the wall, wiping up some of the grime and bringing it to his nose, sniffing it. While the coyote gagged at the sight, she did not know what he was doing.

"Definitely familiar," he told himself, and entered the facility.

It was a bit better inside. At least it wasn't openly exposed to the world's smog and other elements, but the thin nasty glazing and scent was secreted into every inch of everything regardless. Nevertheless, Feh could breath without feeling the immediate need to vomit over himself. The living room was sparse, being nothing more than a couple chairs and a table with some papers strewn about. A feather and ink jet sat in the corner, old black stains from times it had been used blotted the general area.

"His room's over there," Sentral waved, and went off to the kitchen to gather something small to eat.

Feh walked to the closed brown door. It was not fully closed, and he pushed against the rot-riddled entrance with his shoulder, walking in. At this point, there was no reason to be surprised by the minimalistic nature of the room. A bed with torn covers, a single large basket with all of Trop's clothes folded and neatly placed inside, a few posters tacked onto the wall. The bed creaked despite having placed the still-sleeping fox down so gently. A tiny sparkle covered his right cheek, and Feh wiped a finger, cleaning the drool from the silly hibernating boy. "Sleep well," he whispered, and walked out, closing the door on his way.

As soon as he closed the door and looked before himself, Sentral stood there. She held some pieces of bread with unknown meat and vegetables smothered in between, and looked at the wolf impatiently.

"C'mon, take it." She hurriedly smacked the sandwich into the male's paw. "I assume you eat?"Feh brought the breaded food thing up to his nose, sniffing it curiously. "What? Do you not like chicken?" she asked. "I'm sorry, it's too late right now to make anything special."

"It's fine," the wolf smiled, and took a bite. A grimace hid under his expression. The meat was not fresh, and the quality was certainly low. Still, Feh respectfully ate it.

Sentral disappeared into her bedroom, leaving the wolf alone for a moment. He looked around, and saw nothing comfortable to sleep on for himself. A few chairs, but no couch or any kind of cushion. "Ah well, I've had worse." A corner of the living room was picked, and he curled up in it, wagging gently until he fell asleep completely.

Morning came with something heavy falling over Feh. He awoke, instincts kicking in. He threw the thing off, and vision still blurred, swiped with his claws. The next immediate thing he noticed was something warm on his hand. Red, coppery... his senses knew what it was. A brown hooded trench coat laid on the ground near him, and Trop was knocked back on the ground. For better or worse, no one else seemed to be around.

Blood seeped between the fox's fingers as he held the cuts on his face, and he stared up to Feh with tear-filled eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered out with a shaky voice. "I just thought it'd be funny to throw it like that, Coe brought it over earlier..."

Complete shock took over Feh, and he stood there with his mouth wide open. He lived in the forest for so long, that his body had acted on its own in self-defense. Before the guilt killed him, he grabbed the coat, quickly threw it on himself as he rushed for the door. Trop called out for him as he did, but the wolf ignored the pleas, and left.

The pleas faded in the background as Feh shoved his way into the market. A female cat dropped a vase, and yelled at the wolf, throwing a few of the shards at him. A fat raccoon whom was pushed aside yelled for help when he noticed blood had been smeared onto his shoulder. It didn't take long after that for a few burly-looking men in armor, presumably guards, showed up. A quick glance around himself quickly revealed that he was surrounded.

"I see you hurt your hand, pup." A husky voice, belonging to one of the guards, a hound. One of his hands rested on the hilt of a sword strapped to his side. "We'll need you to pay for that vase you broke."

Overwhelming pain and paralysis invoked itself upon the guards in the same way it would if one was shoved in severely cold icy water. The hound would swear until the day he died that he saw the black wolf's fur blink white, and his eyes turned green to blue, just long enough for him to punch him and knock him back, before running into the crowds of people. People had gathered to watch, and he easily disappeared in the masses. He ran into an alleyway, and found a manhole. Fur glowing white again for a moment, he lifted the heavy metal cover like it was paper, and dropped down into the sewers.

"He did what?!" Sentral screamed. She almost slapped Trop, but it would've reopened his wounds and ruined the bandages she had worked to put on his face. Not that they were that bad, but it was hard work.

"He didn't mean to. I think." The fox flattened his ears sadly.

Coe leaned against the wall, arms crossed and looking worried. "Damn it," he muttered to himself. A finger tapped against himself, deep in thought. "We have to find him."

"Why?" the coyote hissed, and glared at Coe angrily. "He attacked my brother, and he did me the favor of getting rid of him on his own. Good riddance."

He pushed himself off the wall, and took a seat in a living room chair. "He's a magical being, so we can't just leave him to wander around. Who knows what would happen."

"He's my friend," Trop stated confidently, looking between his two friends. "Yeah, we haven't known him for that long, and he hurt me, but he's my friend. That's that, and, and I'm going to go find him!"

The fox rose up, ready to run out the door, but the other two held him by his shoulders. "Wait!" they simultaneously yipped.

"Please." Sentral's eyes sparkled a little, and she blushed. "I just want what's best for you. I love you."

While Trop's eyes went wide, Coe didn't seem distracted in the slightest. "We do need to find him," he agreed. "But you can't run off just like him. That'll only make it worse. Let's think about this carefully."

"Do you really want to find him so badly?" Sentral asked, both worry and annoyance in her voice. He nodded in response, and she closed her eyes, needing a moment to stay calm. "Fine. I'll go with you to help."

Trop perked up, and hugged her tight. She blushed with embarrassment, but returned the gesture. "Thank you!"

It had been two days of sitting and wandering in the sewers. No one came down to look for him, or at least if they had, they failed to find him. It was probably better this way. Like the city, grime covered every bit of surface material as if it were used as the mortar between the bricks, although it was clearly a very different kind of grime. Feh sat on a metal catwalk, watching the greenish black slime flow beneath. The smell was enough to kill a lesser being, he thought. Breathing through his mouth was worse. At least it was cold down here. If not for that, he would've left the moment it was safe.

There was no plan when he first came down here. Maybe he'd go back to the forest, or try to find Trop and apologize. No, he couldn't face him again. To the forest, then. The black canine rose up to his feet, and walked through the sewers aimlessly, having lost his way and not sure where to leave from. "I think I first came here from there," he pointed behind himself, but it all looked the same every way.

"You're such a lost, helpless thing," a tiny voice squeaked. Feh turned, looking frantically for a source, but saw none. "Down here."

With glowing red eyes and fur caked black with dry shit, a rat stared up at him. Its tail and feet left prints in the muck-coated ground where it had walked, and its mouth hung open and drooled like a zombie. The wolf cringed at the sight. Even in the wild, animals had better standards.

"Quite the sight, aren't I?" the feral rat asked, without its mouth moving, yet sound definitely came from it.

It took effort for Feh to put on his usual smile. "Who are you, little one?"

"I am one like you." The voice was like a demonic whisper, and it nearly hurt to hear.

The wolf tilted his head, and tapped his lips with a finger. "Like me, hmm? You must like the cold, too!"

"No, you idiot!" the rat hissed, and took a slow step closer, snapping its jaws aggressively. "I'm like you. They have many names for us. Some call us demons."

"Ah," Feh perked his ears up and reached down to pet the rat, but stopped. It was a bit too dirty to touch. "A few have been calling me an 'elemental'. I still don't understand, though."

The rat circled around, keeping its blank red stare locked on. "It is simple, and there is little to understand. We do not belong in this world."

"What makes you say that?"

The rat climbed up on the wolf's coat, and crawled up next to his head. The smell and sight was worse up close, and Feh was tempted to brush it off, but he didn't want to hurt the little guy.

"You can tell by how they all look at you, and how they treat you." The rat circled around Feh's back, climbing to his other shoulder. "They're afraid of you and the things you can do. They hate you not out of jealousy, but because they fundamentally hate your existence. You can never co-exist with them, or be their friends."

"But I do have friends," the wolf's voice sounded like his usual carefree, happy self, but it was with a mask. "Well, at least before..."

The first slight movement seen from the rat was it licking its own muzzle. "Before you defended yourself? I can smell the dry blood on your fingers."

"I didn't defend myself, I hit an innocent person!" Not caring that the rat was filthy, he swiped it off his shoulder. Still, he wiped his hand on his robe after. "He woke me up, but I didn't know it was him. I struck him, it was an automatic reaction," he muttered, head hung low in guilt.

The nasty thing landed off, landing into the river of flowing waste. It quickly jumped out, climbing back up to Feh's feet, a black pool oozing off of it. "That wasn't nice," it snickered. "You shouldn't get the blood of a second innocent on the same hand and on the same day."

"I took careful measure to not hurt you," Feh explained with a monotone voice.

"Thank you." The rat did a little bow. "But you did defend yourself. He provoked your instincts, knowing you're the wildest of beasts!"

This creature was strange, and somehow seemed to strike Feh's senses in a bad way. For the first time in recent memory, the wolf snarled, and stared down at the rat. "Tell me who you are. Now."

"Don't be so hostile!" The rat's eyes flashed a brighter ruby.

"Wait a minute," Feh growled, and bent down. He picked the rat up by its tail, and lifted it upside down. After he sniffed it, he gasped, "I know your scent!"

The rat swung its weight up, and bit Feh's wrist. He dropped it with a scream, and tried to stomp on the red-eyed monster below, but it jumped out off and fell into the river of waste below, washing down a drain safely.

Feh looked at his wound closely. Blood leak down from it, and he hoped it wouldn't get infected. Just then, a laugh came up from where the rat fell, and a voice. "If you don't go home now, you won't have one to go to!"

"What's that mean?!" he barked back, but no reply came. But he didn't have to ask, he knew exactly what that threat meant. The tail of his coat fluttered in the air as he turned and rushed back to the nearest ladder, only wanting to get out of here as fast as he could.

Shadows of flame blazed the black wolf's body as he took his time walking past the burning, twisted bodies of the forest trees. Gray and black ash fell from the sky just as the snow once had before, turning the once beautiful landscape to burnt charcoal. With a single quick motion, he threw the coat off of him by swinging his arms back, but all his skin could feel was the intense heat of the inflamed forest. No longer could he breath the frosted air, and the smoke made him cough and fall to his knees. With all his will, he tried to conjure up his spirit, but nothing came. All his powers, like the forest, had been burnt away, and all he could do was sit on his knees and watch while his tears shined in the fire light.

He laid down on the ground, spreading his limbs. As he stared into the sky and watched the ashes drift freely, he wondered what it would be like to be one. But it was only brief, and he would never want to be something that had been burnt, to have had its being sucked out of it and the carcass cooked. It would be anything but freedom.

It felt like hours of laying around. Ash fell, covering most of his body, only his face sticking out, idly watching the scene unfold itself in hopelessness. Nothing mattered anymore at this point. Perhaps if he were lucky, the fire would spread and burn him, too. There was no home left to go to, and nothing else to wait for. No more snowy nights strolling through the forest, breathing in the soft, crisp winter air...

A distant noise fluttered through the ashfall, the ashes slightly moving aside as the sound caused Feh's ear to flick, as if the slight disturbance was enough to push them aside. Too weak to move his head, or perhaps not caring enough to, he laid there, ignoring it until it came closer.

"...eh... F... eh!"

The voice could only belong to one person. With all his energy, the wolf barely pushed himself from the ground to sit up, lazily turning his head with his drained, dull eyes, and saw ash being kicked up into the air as Trop rushed towards him, the moon causing the tears on the fox's face to twinkle in its midnight light. Once the distance was closed, pounced the wolf, embracing him as tightly as he could. Feh hugged back, and the two laid together for a moment.

"You have no reason to come back," Feh choked up a little, his voice overtaken with emotion. "I'm not a good friend."

With a passion hotter than the fire around them, Trop's lips pressed against the black canine, and the kiss broke off before he could react in any way. "No. You're my best friend."

They gazed into each other's eyes, slowly bringing their muzzles closer once more, and then two more voices forced their attention to look over from where Trop had come. Coe and Sentral were running to them, clouds rapidly emitting from their exhausted, open maws. When they finally arrived, they both leaned forward with their paws on their knees.

"Are you..." Coe asked, panting before he finished, looking to the elemental.

Finishing for him, Sentral was looking her brother, gasping for air in the same manner. "...okay?"

"I'm fine," the two said in reply in sync, and took a moment to look at one another in amusement.

The four of them looked around solemnly. The orange, red light danced in their eyes, but Feh had seen enough, and was the first to look away from it, waiting for the others to finish their sight-seeing. Sentral, never having been the biggest fan of the wolf's, surprised him when she reached down and touched his shoulder.

"Come on." Her voice was soft and soothing. "We should go."

Even if it might have only been a little while since the last one, Feh made a small smile that felt like it reminded him of older times. "I'm afraid I won't be going anywhere right now."

Trop looked worried, or even angry. "Why not?!" he growled, and gripped the wolf by his shoulders. "You have to come with u-!"

With a little roughness, Coe pulled the fox off. "He can't. He's dying."

Trop heard the words, and he understood what each word meant, and yet he still had a blank look on his face. "What?"

"Dying? I thought I was already a wandering soul, aren't I dead?" Feh laughed, and laid his head down with a yawn. "I'm just sleepy."

"I believe," the blue-robed mage began, and then closed his eyes and hid his face behind a palm. "I'm sorry. If I were to explain... I can't. But, I know I'm correct."

The fox smacked his black-furred friend's cheek. "Don't fall asleep! Don't die!"

"If you won't tell them, tell me," Sentral asked sternly. "I've never bothered you about much before, but you can't possibly know so much without some weird reason, Coe!"

With the fire having already made it rather warm, the temperature grew a couple degrees as the sound of a voice drilled its way into the skulls of the group. "Yes, Coe. Why don't you tell them a little about yourself?"

There stood a dark gray rat. He chuckled as they gazed on him, the vocal movements shaking his well-toned chest and stomach, exposed from the open black leather vest he wore. Smoke puffed his his muzzle, and he tapped the cigarette to knock the ashes to the ground. Other than the vest, he only had a pair of jeans overly decorated with belts and buckles.

Coe took a step back before tripping on his own feet. Great fear covering his eyes, he tried to say something, but his mouth could only open and close without anything coming out of it. The rat stepped closer, and at the same time, Coe crawled backwards. Growling, Sentral stepped in front of the new stranger. She was much shorter than him, but her face showed no fear, only a scowl.

She put a hand on the rodent's chest, pushing him back. "I don't know who you are, but I don't think you should be here."

Finally getting something to come out of his mouth, but still with a stutter of hesitation, Coe reached out and yelled, "S-Sentral, get away from him!"

With a look of offense, as if he wondered, 'How dare you even lay a paw on me!,' he bared his fangs and glared at her with a murderous look of hatred. As tough as she was, it made even her worry, but not long enough to avoid what happened next. In a blur of an action, he grabbed her by the back of her head with one hand, and the other squeeze over her muzzle, claws stabbing into her flesh and drawing blood. In the same second, he twisted the poor coyote girl's neck. Everyone heard a sickening, loud crack, and he shoved her down, landing face-first into a pile of snow and ash-mixed slush.

He spat down at her body and sneered, "Bitch."

Time froze, and the dread pained Trop's body the same way drinking ice water bites one's teeth. He lunged to his sister, pulling her face-up and shaking her. "Sen?!" he yelled down at her, over and over. Her eyes were open, but unmoving and unfocused. A thin stream of blood flowed out of the side of her maw, and a little got on the fox's hand. He looked down, arm trembling, vision blurred with tears. Seeing this, Feh struggled to get up, but he barely got on all fours, and then collapsed again. He was simply too tired.

"Aww, what is it, puppy?" the rat teased Feh. Then, a swift kick to his stomach knocked the canine back down, and he reeled over on his side. With a laugh, the cigarettes was thrown down on him, and the rodent stomped it down, burning fur and skin.

"Enough!" Coe stood up. He threw his blue robes off, and slowly pulled the glasses from his face, letting them fall to the ground.

A laugh and grin came from the hostile rat. "My love, whatever are you so mad about?"

Feh squinted his eyes, and muttered to himself from the ground. "Love?..."

Coe's skin tingled, and he could feel his fur prickling up from his mix of emotions and energy. With a bloody battle cry, he rushed forward, and held a hand back with his fingers extended. His lips moved silently, and his fingers danced with gestures as he prepared a spell. "Forgive me," the panda yelled, and threw his arm forward, his hand glowing a dark purple.

"Please, I know you well enough for this." With an absurd amount of apparent ease, the rat stepped aside at the absolute last second, and then spun his elbow around to smack it into his "love's" head. However, his elbow went through Coe like he was made of air before disappearing completely. Then, an intense pain spread throughout his back, and he fell to all fours. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Coe standing there as his hand faded back to its regular color.

"I've gotten a little better," Coe growled. "What happened to you, Tei? Now you've gotten so low that you're killing children."

A dark cloud of ash-laden breath puffed out of the rat's mouth as he yelled back. "You know what happened!" He slammed his fists on the ground, and a burst of flames seared through the air, radiating from Tei. Instead of burning him, the fire was forced to the side, leaving Coe unharmed.

"Fine, so maybe you improved a little," he spat. "But you still can't do anything. You're as useless as ever!" With those words, his body consumed itself in flames. His fur audibly singed off, and his skin underneath bubbled and melted. The stench was terrible, and anything still alive near it puked a little in its mouth. There were no screams of pain, but instead cries of laughter. It wasn't that Tei couldn't feel it. It was just that he liked the pain.

Coe wiped bile from the side of his muzzle and shook it off his hand. "What have you done to yourself?!"

In that same demonic voice from before, he hissed in reply, "I've become more than anything you could imagine! I'm sorry that you won't live long enough to appreciate my new sexy looks very much."

"What a cheesy line." The red panda rolled his eyes.

With the simple motion of lifting his arm and holding it extended towards the ailurine, a beam of flame shot forward. Like the fire ring before, it harmlessly split in half to Coe's left and right, but not without making him grunt with the effort of maintaining the protective barrier. Tei raised his other arm, adding a second beam, and broke through. Horrible burn marks etched themselves over the mage's flesh, and he stumbled backwards as he yelled out in pain. The next second, the being of fire leaped into the air, making sure the mortal could see his fire-etched grin as his fist pounded into the red panda's muzzle. It would've knocked out a tooth, but the rat no longer had a solid state. It was pure heat, scarring his face in an instant. His blood didn't even have time to pour itself out. The attack blurred his vision, and Coe lost balance, falling on his back.

"This is it, you bastard!" the demonic voice screeched. His hand opened up, and flames formed the shape of a sword. Tei raised it, pointed it downwards, and stabbed.

The artificial blade made the same sound metal would cutting through air, oddly enough. But the sound of slicing flesh, or even the smell of the living being cooked to death, never came. Instead, a powerful chill took over the Tei's arm, and the sword dissipated. There Feh stood, his fur white and eyes neon blue. "Aaaah! Get away!" the fire elemental yelled, and tried to shove him back. The wolf grabbed the second arm, and the flames began to dwindle there, too. Icicles tried to form, although they melted as soon as they did, only making clouds of steam instead. Snowflakes began to float down in front of their eyes. At first, they were light, but they quickly grew in quantity. Blankets of snow rained down, and a powerful wind kicked up, blowing the flakes around and obscuring vision. The blizzard was colder, nastier than ever before, even when the forest was in a never ending winter.

"Stop this," Feh demanded, eyebrows furrowed into a scowl and fangs bared.

After a deep breath, the fire rat coughed up an explosion, separating them. "How'd you transform? I burned down your source," Tei asked, both curiosity and fear riddled in his voice.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Feh giggled like a girl, but he quickly hid that side of himself and put a serious look back on.

On the ground, in pain and badly hurt, Coe laughed. "He didn't lose his abilities; you only snuffed out his main source of fuel," he panted out, and raised his head just enough to gloat at the rat. "This time, the snowfall is natural."

"Oh, is that so?" Feh asked, a little grin on his face. "That is wonderful news!"

"You're more flamboyant than me, and I'm made of fire. Fuck you!" He spewed another fireball forward, and Feh punched the thing head on, causing it to shatter like broken glass.

As the two fought on, Coe crawled away, trying not to receive any more attention. Trop still held his sister's body, completely ignoring the rest of the world. He didn't even look up when Coe put a hand on his shoulder. Sentral's shirt and face had been soaked from falling tears, and even though Trop had finally stopped crying, he was both motionless and visually emotionless.

"...You never answered her question," the fox whispered a bit venomously. "Who is that person? That thing?"

For a few moments, Coe didn't reply, and only kept his eyes on the back of the kid's head. "...He was my mate."

"Your mate?" he asked, but he knew what it meant. "You're lovers with a murderer. How are you any better? We're here because of you; this is your fault!" He yelled, turning his head finally to give a death leer.

"I said he was my mate. Past tense," Coe calmly replied.

"You're not just some mage on a quest for money and fame, are you?"

The red-and-black furred male shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Everything," he growled. "Tell me everything. How you know so much, and who you are. "

"Yeah, I guess I owe that much to you," Coe nodded, and closed his eyes as he told the story. "Me and Tei knew each other since we were kids, and we became lovers. He became a mage, like myself. He became obsessive with always learning better spells, and eventually killed himself on accident because of it. After that, I was no longer part of any guild or group. I used to be, but I'm a loner now."

Trop looked back to Sentral, and closed her eyes. "If he died, how come he's here now?"

"Because I revived him."

The fox spun his head back, "You what?!"

"The living and half-living, like Feh, can heal some wounds, as you may know. It's usually calling healing magic, but in reality, it is life magic. Only the living have full control of it, including its opposite, death." He took a deep breath, and looked straight into the fox's yellow eyes. "I'm a necromancer."

Trop stared at him, and his face would have gone pale if it hadn't already been covered in white fur. Everyone knew necromancy was outlawed. It was corruptive, unholy, evil, unnatural. He looked away, and back down.

"If that's true," his voice and whole body shivered, and he closed his eyes, crying again. "If that's true, then bring back Sen! I want my sister, please; I'll do anything for it!"

"Trop..." Coe brought the fox into a hug, and whispered, "There are limits to that kind of magic."

Screams of frustration filled the air almost as much as the snow. No matter what Tei did, Feh was unaffected, either by dodging or countering. The wolf danced around the fire attacks as if it was simply a skillfully executed dance procedure. He inched closer to the being of fire, and once close enough, sprinted the remaining distance and delivering a series of hits. Each kick, every punch, left a blueish mark of frozen fire. The ice melted each time after only a moment, but the fire rat screamed in agony each time. His flame wasn't as bright as it had been when he first started the whole confrontation, too.

"This was rather anti-climatic," Feh sighed in disappointment. "I guess it can't be helped."

The fire hissed in reply, and stomped a foot on the ground. He stood there, unmoving other than the natural flickers of his body.

"Hmm, done now?" the wolf asked with a tilted head. "If so, I'm going to end this now. You don't deserve to burn air. Teehee, get it, because you'd normally say 'breath air,' but you're made of fire!"

"Shut up," Tei said monotonously. He then walked over to a pile of half-burnt trees that had fallen on each other, and looked over with a small grin. Feh took a step closer, growling in warning, but the rat had already gotten to work, and threw himself onto the pile. Flames instantly engulfed what was left, and the sound of crackling wood was so loud that it made Feh cover his ears and cringe. After nothing but hot embers were left, the rat reformed his firey body, as bright as when he first began.

All Feh did was shrug. "I guess I'll just have to beat you down over and over, until you give up or die."

"I wonder what will run out first, my fire or your blizzard?" he mocked, and held up an arm, launching a beam of flame. The falling snow melted near it, surrounding the attack with boiling steam. It was faster than before, and Feh tried to strife out of the way, but the surface of his neckfur was burned, and his footsteps faltered after. "Pathetic! You can't project yourself in your twilight state. Hurry up and transform completely!"

The wolf smiled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I honestly have no idea what you're saying."

"Like this, right?" Trop asked, holding a hand over his chest, and over Sentral's. His heart was beating so fast, and he was dizzy. Either this was a dream, or he'd pass out and would start dreaming if something didn't happen soon to stop him.

"Yes," Coe nodded. "You'll have to repeat the incantations exactly as I say. And, you understand what you're going to have to do once that is done, right?"

"I know." He was unphased by the idea. 'Anything for you, Sentral...'

The words were ancient, foreign. Trop didn't know what they meant, but he did his best to phonetically say them. Every syllable felt like a twist, tug, and squeeze on his innards, all at once. The feeling concentrated into a tight knot, right in his heart. His body felt so very cold, and not because of the weather, but he was sweating despite it.

Without saying anything, Coe reached into his pocket, and extended it to his young friend. The metal gleamed in the night light, reflecting the image of snowflakes. Laying there in the mage's palm, the blade looked so calm and peaceful, the ivory handle making it seem like nothing more than a piece of art. But it was going to be much more than that.

Trop's hand left his chest and picked up the knife. His breathing quickened, and for a moment, he wasn't sure he could go through with it. For that thought, he hated himself, and was all he needed to plunge the knife straight into his heart. At the very second the blade pierced his most vital organ, his body was engulfed in a dark green aura, and it spread out to Sentral's corpse.

Feh was starting to wear down at exactly the same rate as the snowfall was lightening. 'It won't last much longer,' he thought to himself. Knowing that, he decided it was all or nothing. No longer fast enough to dodge, he didn't bother to even try this time. A fireball was hurling towards him, and he ran into it, taking the force in his chest, yelping in pain, but kept rushing forward to the fire rat. This sudden straightforward aggression seemed to surprise Tei, and he focused all of his strength into hurling a flurry of flames with his palms, the wolf absorbing all of it until he was in striking range. He grabbed the rat by his head, trying to crush it and smother it out. While having no idea if this would work or even matter to something that didn't seem to have any physical body left, waiting around wouldn't help either.

"Agh! Let go!" Tei demanded, and grabbed the wolf's forearms, burning them intensely. Feh gritted his fangs, but wouldn't let go, but his efforts were paying off with just a few millimeters. The rat screamed a horrible demon cry, making Feh's ears bleed, but he still wouldn't let go. "Fine, have it your way!" He raised a leg, and the flames took the form of a sword like before, stabbing it through the canine's side.

Feh's eyes went still, and his grip loosened. It hurt just as a real blade would, although he didn't bleed very much, as the fire seared the wound shut almost instantly. After that, it was a simple kick to get the wolf off, and Tei dominantly stared down at the defeated runt.

"There isn't anything left for you in this world. Please stop causing me headaches," Tei growled, rubbing his head. That still hurt. He lifted his blade-leg, and stabbed into the wolf again, this time his thigh. It seemed he was torturing him, cutting him and piercing in non-vital places, eliciting cries and yelps each time. "How's it feel, you cunt?!"

"Not as bad as a broken neck."

Tei made an exasperated sigh, turning his head. "Oh, not that last minute thing agai-"

Yellow light filled the sky, and it shined down like the golden rays of the sun, lighting the darkened area as much as daylight would. The overcast parted, and the blinding force came through. A deafening crack rained down, and everyone's eyes hurt as if they were stabbed, and ears rang from an explosively powerful noise. Although no one could hear it, Tei was screaming for mercy. Begging for his pathetic, miserable life.

No one but Sentral, anyways. She stood over the blinded beast, watching it write like the piece of trash it was, clawing at the ground as if to dig its way into a hole and hide for better days to come. "No more." She pointed a finger, and the fur stood up on it the same way a balloon rubbed on fur would do. Tiny blue sparks, small and few at first, grew until a final bolt shot down, piercing the fire elemental's head.

The flames of whatever remained of Tei cooled down, growing duller over the ground, until nothing but smoke from the ashes remained. The group all fell to the ground, breathing hard. For awhile, they simply sat there. What just happened was too much for words, and no one felt like saying anything.

"After I revived him," Coe began after they had a few minutes to inhale, "he was okay at first. But he was reborn with the element of fire. He had to burn things to stay alive. We hid in Fubis, and what he couldn't get working as a blacksmith apprentice, he would find and steal charcoal or anything else that he said 'tasted good'. Over time, he started getting obsessive with it, and liked burning things alive. When he killed his first person, I abandoned him, and he blamed me for leaving him alone. I'm sorry for all this."

Trop grabbed Coe around the waist, holding him tightly and burying his face into the red panda's chest. "I don't care. All I care about is you helped bring back Sentral. Thank you."

Feh limped to the mage, and pat his head. "As being the one you're responsible for ruining the home of, I forgive you."

"Ha, thanks," Coe rolled his eyes, but still laughed. So did the others.

Except for Sentral. She stood behind the others, staring at Coe with an unwavering look of mild anger. The coyote's fur waved about in a gust of wind, and her eyes sparked. Coe softly pushed the fox back and stood up, walking towards the new elemental. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever." She shut her eyes and turned her head. Her eyes opened back in surprise when she was hugged.

"Don't let yourself grow twisted. Trop's life is the same as yours now." And then, he kissed her lips. She instantly smacked him, and the mage laughed. "Sorry, I just couldn't die a happy man without that."

"Make it quick with the dying part!" But then she groaned and kissed him back, briefly. "That's only because you helped undo some of the trouble you caused. So, thanks. I guess." Coe nodded with a soft smile.

Trop reached for the wolf's paw, squeezing it. "I don't want you or Coe to go away."

With his usual smile, Feh pat the cub's head and leaned down to whisper. "Hey, don't worry. It's not like my spirit will stop existing." That, however didn't seem to comfort the fox, who whimpered more. "You already have someone here who can, and who wants to, spend their life with you."

"Huh?" he tilted his head, and looked back for a second. "Sen? Well, yeah, but that's different."

"You're so naive that it's cute," Feh chuckled, and backed away. He and Coe stood next to each other, and shook hands.

"Was a pleasure working with you," the mage said as he put his glasses back on.

Feh smiled broadly, showing his white fangs. "I feel the same. It was rather interesting going around with someone as cute as you, though I wish our adventures has been as in-depth as you had imagined them being."

"Ah well. All good things come to an end, they say, right?"

Sentral and Trop stood, watching the two parallel adults, who looked back with calm, content faces, happy with their lives. Finally able to find peace.

"Goodbye." Coe waved a hand and waved, and Feh just kept on smiling.

"Bye," the fox barely got out, wiping away a tear as he waved back.

Sentral dropped her rough exterior, thinking this moment made it okay. "I, really will miss you guys, for whatever that's worth. Even if you did cause a bunch of shit."

"See you again, one day." Feh bowed.

Light enshrined the two adults, purple on Coe, blue and white over Feh. They both raised their heads to the sky, closing their eyes, glowing brighter until that the light became all their bodies were. The two broke apart into thousands of small fireflies, fluttering off into the air. The cubs watched from below, until the lights were gone and they were alone.

Sentral finally looked down from the sky, and held her brother's hand. "...Let's go home."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement, squeezing hers back tightly.