The werewolf stared at the soft furs that covered the cabin floor. Inside, the fire crackled and filled the room with warmth, stew bubbling on the stove, Outside, the snow howled through the forest. Thick, frozen and impossible to navigate. His heart skittered.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His host, his rescuer, his hunter, asked. He stepped closer to the werewolf, eyes fixed on him.
“Yes.” It was true. Beautiful, terrible, lifeless. “You have quite the collection.”
“Come, sit.” The hunter flashed a smile. “You’re trembling with cold. Have you ever felt fur against your skin?”