Redhawk Caldera Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

For the first time in days, Towhee felt too warm. She wriggled out from beneath the pile of puppies, the cold air such a shock that it took her breath away. After recovering, she nearly reconsidered wedging herself back beneath her brothers and sisters. She really needed to answer an urgent fall of nature, though, and she was already learning not to mess herself or their sleeping area. Shivering slightly, the small pup waddled perhaps two feet from the heap of warm, sleepy siblings. She squatted, her little tail pointing straight up in the air as she emptied her bladder.

She began to wobble back toward the welcoming halo of body heat when her baby blue eyes caught sight of a chunk of meat sitting on the cave floor. On unsteady little legs, she moved toward it instead, black nose bumping against the cold meat. Towhee shivered, drawing back an inch before pressing in again and darting out her tiny pink tongue for a taste. She held still, trying to discern whether it tasted good or bad, and when she tried to move back again, her tongue stuck to the frozen flesh.