Got Dam Whit Stuf

Sparrow was in the south and yeah it could have been a whole lot colder- a whole lot. Sparrow had been to the north and man that was, in fact, a whole lot colder, but y'know, cold was cold and this wasn't the suffering olympics or anything so... whatever. The storm over the past day or two had unceremoniously dumped a whole trove of snow. And Sparrow was a big wolf. So for HER to think it was a lot of snow... yeah. It was a lot.

She had come back south after her adventures in the north and did not expect the cold to follow her. She was also not at all thrilled by the prospect. She felt like she had JUST gotten her fur free of clumps of the white stuff, but here she was again, chest high and fighting to walk around. Chest high? You think she'd exaggerate? Okay, maybe she would, but she wasn't right now, there was DEFINITELY this much snow in the south right now, okay? She couldn't even get to her alcohol stores. And she felt like she needed that to be able to keep warm. That or a nice pretty someone something to keep her warm- but that wasn't happening right now so alcohol would have to suffice.

That was... if she could find it.

Man, she really was becoming more and more of a summer time beach bum wolf. You'd think that being this large and being this fluffy, she'd be impervious to the cold, but that was far from the case. She was, in fact, very very cold. Her paws were cold. Her ears were cold. Her nose was cold. Ice clung to her paws and underside fur. All the way up to her chest. Snow coated her back and at this point her whole body felt heavy. She thought to just nose a little hole in the snow and go to sleep, but she needed to like... get out of the snow and shake the clods free from her fur so that she wouldn't warm up and suddenly melt the ice, get all wet, and freeze into one giant icicle.

At this point, she was able to break a little ways into the orchard. The trees were heavy with snow and several branches had broken off here and there. Not enough to matter much, but enough to be annoying. Luckily, this had shielded the ground a bit from the snow and Sparrow was able to break free and give her coat a hearty shake, dispersing the ice and snow that was clinging steadfast to her pelt. Well... some of it anyway. She still felt heavy and used her back foot- first one and then the other- to kick and scratch her belly and chest and rake her claws through the dampened and frozen fur. Kicking at it helped some as a few clods went smashing across the ground. It also seemed to do a good job yanking out a few chunks of fur. Which was by far less pleasant. She needed all the fur she could get if she planned on surviving the rest of winter.

After freeing herself from an acceptable amount of the white shit, Sparrow made her way under the trees where the snow was less thick. Here she was able to step a little freer and she started to have small hopes of being able to get some booze to warm herself up after all. She dug around a few trees and... nothing. Okay, so maybe she had already moved a load of bottles to prep for the party. And maybe while she was doing that she drank a few of them. So now that led to her not remembering which bottles she took and which she left. Those memories were far lost to drunk Sparrow.

Cursing the cold and still wanting to make it back to the barn before sun down. Sparrow started stamping snow around the trees where she had buried booze. Empty empty empty empty.... OH bingo! She found a good two bottles. She quickly worked on one of them, slinging the other gingerly over her neck by the leather strap. She kept the other in her mouth, intermittently tipping her head back to drink while she walked. Eventually she hit her old path and the way back was immensely easier than the way to the orchard. About halfway there, she finished the first bottle and worked on the second one. She was feeling quite warm, that was for sure. By the time she left the Orchard and made her way back into the pack and closer to her beloved barn where there was no snow and all warmth, she was staggeringly drunk and ready to sleep away the snowy night in the hay, dreaming of warmer summer days.