With great care, you delicately brush through Dynamite's fur, clumps of his old, purple coat falling out as you do so. Every minute or so, you have to pull some out, as it's so thick it clogs the brush. Both of you are currently sitting on your patio, with Dynamite sitting infront of you so you can get better access to his fur. Cold air breezes past you both pleasantly.

His winter jacket lays beside him, though you have yours on. Currently, you're preparing to head into Outer Ring, an excursion that'd become the norm by now. Food had become scarce during the apocalypse, and Dynamite, being a carnivore, had ran out almost on day one. All the meat had gone bad, anything else gone from abandoned stores So, you had taken to hunting bestial objects in Outer Ring. It didn't feel great, having to kill people for food, but it was commonplace in said ring, and Dynamite had to eat somehow.

"I hate winter. I lose all my melanin and get so pink. I look girlish." Dynamite moans, letting out a sigh and inspecting one of his arms. Vibrant pink fur coats the top of it, and the bottom is pure white. He seems embarrassed at the colour he's turned, and his tongue pokes out of his mouth in reaction.