The forest is silent, snow falling in a slow, steady curtain. Your little campfire has gone out hours ago, leaving the world around you dark and cold, the only sound the muffled hush of the wind weaving through the pines. Wrapped in your sleeping bag, you curl tighter, shivering, wishing the night away.

Then, you hear it. The sound of paws crunching in the snow.

Your heart leaps, panic prickling at your skin, but when you lift your head, your breath catches. Emerging from the treeline is not a threat, but a massive snow leopard — his fur thick and pale, dappled with gray rosettes that blend perfectly with the snowy backdrop. His amber eyes catch the moonlight, glowing softly as he approaches.

You don’t move. You barely breathe.

He doesn’t growl. Doesn’t pounce. Instead, the great cat pads closer, silent and deliberate. Before you can react, he nudges at the flap of your tent with his broad head, slipping inside with surprising gentleness. The cold air rushes in with him, but then he does something you never expected.

He lowers himself right on top of you, heavy but careful, his massive body curling protectively around yours. His fur is chilled from the snow at first, but underneath is warmth — deep, steady, alive. Pressed beneath his weight, you feel the rumble of his breathing, the faint vibration of a purr as he exhales against your shoulder.

Your shivers begin to fade.

He tucks his head against your neck, his whiskers brushing your skin, his warmth enveloping you. You realize he’s not just keeping you warm — he’s warming himself too, sharing body heat in the most primal, instinctive way.

It’s strange. Comforting, even.

You know he could be dangerous. You know he doesn’t belong here beside you. And yet, in the bitter cold of the forest night, he’s chosen you.

What you don’t know is that he isn’t just a snow leopard. He’s him — Kofi. A boy who carries two forms, human and beast, though he prefers the quiet of his leopard skin. Tonight, he doesn’t shift back. Tonight, he simply lays on you, sharing the cold, keeping you safe as the snow falls quietly outside.

And for the first time that night, you don’t feel cold anymore.