"Why the fuck is it so cold?" Noel cursed under his breath with a tone that almost bit as harsh as the wind. The chill did not relent at his words and he huffed as he pulled his clothing tighter around his body. They were threadbare and plain -- the cloak was something he plucked from the communal stores and infested with fleas (or at least Noel was convinced it was, the material scratching at him and giving him the heebie-jeebies). It was not like he had a whole lot of options. Most of his, and the clan's, possessions were burned in the fire.
Ugh.
At least they had hot springs in the old territory. Now they had tiny puddles that would probably kill him if he drank from them, if he was lucky. At least they had a mansion with walls and a fireplace and blankets and a kitchen. Now they had some dank caves to sleep in, recently dubbed "Hellfire Hollow." Not cringey at all. Totally not reminiscent how their last home, their better home, kicked the bucket. Great, he thought with an annoyed groan.
There was no one to witness his whining, sans Mīyā. The scraggly raven was perched on his shoulder as he sat underneath the dead tree near the hollow. Her feathers were more ruffled than usual and she did not seem as cold as her coyjackal companion but she nestled close to him. It was as if the thing cared for him for as much trouble she gave and he begrudgingly allowed her to stay there. She didn't do much in the way of warmth but at least he wasn't talking to himself.
"Snow," Mīyā explained brightly as if Noel didn't notice the expanse of white many inches high. The male gave his surroundings a deadpan look before fussing with his clothes again. "Thanks for the observation," he said bluntly. Snow had lost its wonder soon after the first time he saw it last season and now it was another thing he dreaded.
A noise of pain jumped from his lips as the raven bit his ear, not taking his attitude kindly.