the pointy end

Much like her father Shae was hardly bothered by the cold weather. Partly because she was her father’s daughter and more importantly because daddy liked the cold so did she. The tiny silver marked girl was playing outside the den, making little snow angels as she slid around in the snow that seemed like it would never leave. Once she was thoroughly soaked through and her paws were cold and muddy, Shae made her way back into the den. Now she kind of wanted to snuggle up with mom or dad by the fire and fall asleep to papa’s singing.

Shae tumbled in through the fur door and collapsed in a pile at Satire’s paws. Shae looked up at her from upside down, bright blue and lavender eyes blinking at Satire’s garnet gaze. The girl grinned brightly, and without warning lifted her little paws and aimed to press her cold toes on Satire’s cheeks. Already Shae was giggling to herself at making her sister endure the cold.