He'd finally done it. The damn skunk had slipped up. Their cat and mouse game was finally over and he, yes he, was the victor. For awhile Valentine had been wondering if Lefty was going to win simply by outliving him. That was probably what made this victory so sweet. Neither had said it but both had surely thought 'last one standing wins' at some point. And now he was going to be the last one standing.

"Valentine!" the skunk howled from deep underground. "You old fuck, get help!"

Valentine hummed (which she likely couldn't hear) and rolled his eyes as though in thought (which she definitely couldn't see). "I shan't," he said with a sniff.

"What?"

He stuck his face in the hole and yelled, "I said good-bye, you old gas bag!"

The pair had been walking together (unwillingly on Valentine's part, of course) when they'd stumbled upon a deep hole. It was a curious thing; perfectly round, straight and lined with what looked like stone. Wooden boards had been laid over top and upon that debris had built up over the years. It appeared the boards at the bottom of the pile had finally rotted away enough to let debris through revealing what Valentine recognized immediately as a skunk sized hole. By the grace of god he'd managed to smush her through it before she could let out a single noxious poot. The shriek and splash that followed had been music to his ears.

Lefty, realizing he was serious, began to curse him. Valentine, happiest he'd been in years, ignored her rage and began digging around in the snow for branches to seal the hole with.

Ever on the lookout for useful things, Cicero had decided to inspect this place where the trees grew in lines. Yes, of course someone had planted them that way once upon a time, but they had done what they were told and had stayed in those lines. It was an interesting thing to see. It didn't matter that the branches were overgrown and a few of the trees had given up their hold on life. They were in lines. It was fun. The winter breeze brought the smell of man with it and the obsidian dame tucked her ears for a moment, brow furrowing. Hopefully it wasn't another wolf along to ask her for something. 'Teach me this. Make me that.' It got annoying after a while. Couldn't a girl just have a day of exploration all to herself? The commotion coming from up ahead proved that this would not be the case today. Padding forward on dainty little paws, Cicero peered around one of the overgrown trees. There was a big brute there. He was staring down a hole? Ohhhh, and he was yelling down the hole as well. OHHHHHH, and someone at the bottom was yelling back! Curiosity struck. Dammit. Sliding forward, Cicero handed the brute a stick since he seemed to be collecting them. Nonchalantly, like they were old friends that had known one another forever, she handed him yet another. "And who are we murdering today?" Heavily lashed silver eyes gave a bat or two before she scanned around for more debris to shove in the hole. It was a great game. She hoped he'd play along and let her play as well. "Speech"

Damn near euphoric now, Valentine was slapping sticks across the hole like a frenzied beaver. Oh ho, this was just too good, too good indeed! Lefty had been a pain in his ass for year snow. Fuck, how old was his youngest litter? She hadn't been with him more than a season before Cascade gave the kids to him and the musky little weasel had the nerve to nestle them in their little bed like a broody hen. Almost three years, then. Three years he'd chased and fought and threatened the little beast all the while she'd laughed and cuddled him, and fouled the air with her nonstop, inane chatter. Well, no more! Now he'd have his den all to himself if he wanted it that way and when he didn't, well, there would be no striped pest to complain.

There was suddenly a stick shoved under his nose and Valentine grabbed it without hesitation; he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was Christmas. He wove the stick between some of the others already there until there wasn't any wiggle left in it. Once his mouth was clear he began to speak. "The vilest creature known to wolves. A small, raging hemorrhoid of an animal, who has made a life of cock blocking, harassing and extorting." He glanced at who he was talking to long enough to note the stranger was fucking gorgeous. Fucking. Christmas.

Valentine gave the stranger a significant look. If she was going to willingly join in then he was going to put her to work. She was young. Those lovely legs were good for more than looking at. "Keep those sticks coming, gorgeous, this pit isn't going to seal itself." He grabbed another and worked it in. "We have a fiend to bury."

A cockblocking fiend, eh? "Och, well we can't have that getting free." Cicero didn't quite know what he was talking about, but it seemed like a dilemma for the man. He shouldn't be forced to suffer any further and if getting rid of the beast was what it took, then dammit, they would get rid of the beast. If a handsome murderer wanted more sticks, you gave him more sticks. Thankfully they were in a bloody orchard and there were sticks everywhere. The obsidian fae wasted no time in trailing off to come back with piles of sticks and branches. What they really needed though was something to plug the hole after. Silver eyes trailed over the terrain until she found what she was looking for. Having gauged the size of the hole simply by eyeing it, Cicero found a stone of similar shape and size. Moving it would be another matter. She wasn't exactly large. Placing her front paws against the stone, her back paws scrabbled at the ground, trying to make the earth give up its hold on the rock. Time and again she tried and she was just about to give up when the stone shifted. "Aha!" she cried in triumph. Oddly enough, the stone seemed very round and so it rolled well. Keeping her paws on the stone, she continued to walk with her back paws, rolling the rock across the orchard and back to where the blue man stood. "Sticks are dandy, but I doubt anything that can fit down that hole could move this rock out of the way." If he wanted it dead and buried, this was the way to do it. "Speech"