Phantom Hollow sweet potato pie

Weather: 24°F, Foggy. Snow (2-4 in.) starting later this evening, continuing until tomorrow morning.

It had grown warmer starting around midday, and Dune was thankful that he had made it to the forest in time to shelter himself from yet another blanket of snow. The skies seemed to open up daily, rarely giving him a break from the snow. At least today the gods of weather had given him a break from the cold, and the current temperature felt almost balmy compared to what he had been feeling days prior. It was, of course, still below freezing, and he could still see his breath when he exhaled. But he felt somewhat more at ease and less like he was fighting for every heartbeat.

The forest he had used for shelter was eerily quiet, and he wondered if some great curse had fallen upon it. The silence might have scared him if he hadn't welcomed it so easily. An absence of noise, of voices, and of the howling wind was more enjoyable than what he had been fighting for the last several days. When the light of the sun had begun to fade away, Dune sought shelter against one of the trees. His tail curled around him, and he nestled his nose beneath it, instinctively knowing it was the best way to keep warm.