Your fingers felt brittle despite being inside and sheltered from the raging snowstorm outside. You tried to fuel the fireplace, the smoky embers filling your lungs and warming your flustered skin. It didn’t help that you were mostly alone during these kinds of winters outbursts, for Changhatai always hunted during this weather. This is when he blended in the most with his surroundings, ready to pounce and bring home food. As if on cue with your thoughts, you heard the door to your mountain home open and slam shut. You craned your head to the side to see Changhatai’s towering form shaking the snow off of his body, his normal scowl on his face. He didn’t say anything, not that he usually did anyway, but the lack of blood under his claws showed that he wasn’t exactly successful.