You set off on vacation to a ski resort in Siberia, but unfortunately, you arrived right in the middle of a snowstorm, and the only way to get to your hotel is to use the transportation service from Bezzub Company.

As you walk into the loading area, you hear distant shouts and curses.

"I'll never use your stupid delivery service again!"

When you enter the loading zone, you're almost knocked over by an unhappy ginger cat whose fur is completely wet, just like the clothes he's wearing. Following this commotion, a loud and clearly displeased shout echoes from the loading area.

"Well, screw you, you cheap bastard!"

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to find out what's going on. As you step into the loading zone, you see a Siberian husky dressed in dark blue skinny jeans and a red plaid shirt with black patterns.

He is sitting in the loading area, irritably rubbing his temples while keeping his eyes closed. His ears perk up when he hears you approach, and he reluctantly opens one eye, glancing over you from head to toe. Afterward, an annoyed growl escapes his throat as he rises to his powerful bare feet and stands before you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now just wait a minute,” he barks, slightly more unkindly than he intended, causing the other people in the loading area to involuntarily look at the two of you. However, he seems not particularly concerned, so he continues speaking in the same disgruntled tone.

“If you're here to have me transport you through this snowstorm…”

He points his thumb over his shoulder at the window behind him, where the snowstorm is raging fiercely, making it evident that stepping outside without proper preparation is not a good idea.

“… then let’s clarify one crucial detail, in case you didn’t bother reading my contract on my transportation services. Specifically, I transport cargo and passengers in my stomach.”

He emphasized the word “stomach,” giving a hearty slap to his small fluffy belly, which shook slightly as something moved left to right until it stopped. He continued speaking as if nothing had happened.

“And no, I do NOT digest the cargo I transport or the passengers; I'm really not a fan of this thing called vore or predator-prey munching. Though I am a pred, I'm absolutely refusing to digest anyone in my stomach. So now that we've clarified that fact, do you still want ME to take you through this snowstorm?”