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Rusty groaned lightly as he rolled over in bed, tossing off most of the sheets in the process. He laid in the silence for a moment before he sat up, wiping his eyes and rubbing away the grogginess. He could see a flicker of light shining from the lower area of the cabin, glancing over at his clock. Ken must have still been digging in the cave.

"Hey Ken, take a break," Rusty called out.

The coyote yawned as he stretched, before slipping out of bed and walking over to the railing at the edge of the loft. He gazed down at the pile of snow where the front door was, then shook his head lightly.

"I said take a break!" he yelled down at the hole.

Not hearing a reply, he climbed down from the loft and approached the front door. He knelt down at the edge of the hole and poked his head in, then froze at the sight that greeted him. The tunnel was almost completely blocked off, and he couldn't see the leopard through the narrow gap that remained at the top of the pile. Fortunately, the flashlight that Ken had been using as his source of light wasn't buried.

Rusty snatched up the light and dove into the pile of snow, crawling forward until he couldn't fit and shining the light ahead of him. He looked this way and that, and then called out to the feline again. He held his breath for a long moment, waiting for a reply of some sort, then breathed a deep sigh when he heard his name in reply. It was faint, but distinct.

"Hold on, Ken, I'm gonna dig you out of here!" he yelled into the small gap.

Rusty wiggled backwards away from the pile of snow, and then feverishly began to dig into the snow. The heavy pack, however, made digging with his hands almost impossible. He whined as he ducked out of the tunnel into the cabin, and began ton frantically search for something to aid his rescue attempt. The only shovel he'd found, unfortunately, was buried with the leopard.

As he scanned the cabin with the flashlight, his eyes fell on the fireplace. He ran over and snatched up a cast-iron poker, hefting it in a paw. His heart raced as he dove back into the snowy tunnel, thrusting the hooked end of the poker into the snow and tugging it back sharply. The initial jab had little effect, leaving only a shallow trench in the debris, but several more attempts yielded better results.

A spray of snow flew around him each time he stabbed the iron poker into the pile, small chunks of ice rolling away from the pile as he made progress. He reached out with a paw, giving a sharp tug and breaking away a large section of snow and rolling it past himself. He quickly swept away the loose material, hoping that he could get to the leopard quickly enough to avoid disaster.

Rusty's mind was a blur as he repeatedly stabbed the tool into the snow, almost panicked as he tried to dig out his boyfriend. Even if it had been an accident, he felt that it was his fault. He had been asleep while Ken was digging in the tunnel. He didn't even know how long the leopard had been buried under the snow.

He feverishly tried to widen the gap at the top of the pile, knowing he only needed enough room to squeeze himself through. He knew he had to get to Ken as quickly as possible before the leopard caught hypothermia, or worse. Time was ticking.

* * * * * * *

Ken breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the coyote call out to him, knowing that there was still hope that he might get out alive. In the time since he'd been trapped, he had managed to create enough of a gap around his chest that he could breathe comfortably, but that was about it. The warmth of his body was slowly melting the snow around him, which in turned soaked into his clothing and fur, sending a cold chill over him.

He blinked rapidly when a burst of snow rained over his head, assuming for a moment that the tunnel was collapsing again. It took him a moment to realize that the pieces of ice and snow were actually coming from the pile on top of him. He twisted his head to the side as he heard shuffling, and then squinted when another burst of snow covered his muzzle in ice crystals.

"What the hell is that mutt doing?" he wondered as a thin stream of light gradually grew stronger, illuminating the inside of the pocket ahead of himself.

Ken shivered as he felt the cold moisture soaking deeper into his fur, his heart still racing as he fought to keep himself out of shock. As the coyote continued to hack away at the snow at the top of the pile with the tool, his hope was renewed that he might actually survive this ordeal. Another uncontrolled shiver, however, reminded him of the danger that he was still in.

* * * * * * *

Rusty tossed the poker aside as he reached into the pile of snow, pulling out handfuls of loose debris and throwing it aside. He almost had enough room to squeeze through. His paws were a blur as they scratched against the pile, tugging away anything that he could find that was loose. Satisfied with his work, he grabbed the light and threw it through the gap in the snow, then tugged himself up onto it after grabbing the poker. He grunted as he tugged himself forward, squirming through the narrow gap.

"...the hell?" came a voice ahead of him, clearly confused by the sudden commotion.

Rusty pushed forward, sliding his chest through the gap in the passage, and then found himself face to face with a leopard. He grinned, meeting him eye-to-eye. "Hi there!"

"Am I glad to see you!" Ken exclaimed, his teeth clicking lightly as he shivered again.

"I'll have you out in no time, sweetie. Don't worry," the coyote said as he inched forward.

Rusty grunted as he worked to squeeze his waist through the narrow opening, then stopped abruptly when his hips found the gap. He twisted himself a bit, and then relaxed again when he realized he'd made no progress.

"Uh oh."

Ken's ears perked at this, and he gazed up at the coyote. "What do you mean 'uh oh'? You better not be stuck."

"No, I'm fine. I just need to...move around a little," the coyote replied, though the concern in his voice wasn't comforting.

Ken groaned as he strained against the narrow passage, the snow crackling softly as his hips tugged against it, packing it down. He took a few breaths to relax himself, and then twisted himself sharply to one side. Another sharp jerk sent him toppling headfirst into the snowy passage, landing upside-down against the wall. He shook his head lightly to get his bearings, and then grinned at the leopard, who looked entirely unimpressed.

"Told you I wasn't stuck," he announced proudly, righting himself and then crawling over to his trapped boyfriend.

"That's great, hun. Now why don't you make yourself useful, and get me out of this before we both freeze to death?"

Rusty nodded to him, reaching down and digging at the snow by Ken's shoulders. He didn't dare use the poker so close to the leopard's head, for fear of impaling him. He grunted as he broke away a large piece of snow, giving Ken quite a bit of room to move his shoulder. The leopard sighed with relief, despite the increasing numbness that was beginning to spread through his fingers.

"Just hang on, sweetie. We'll have you out of here in no time," the coyote growled as he tried to work Ken's other shoulder free.

After several minutes of digging and hacking, Rusty had managed to free both of the leopard's shoulders, and was quickly working to pull the snow away from his chest. Ken was getting impatient, however, and started to struggle once more. With the extra freedom, he arched himself back, the snow groaning and popping around his torso.

"Hey, relax hun. You need to save your energy," the coyote warned, seeing the leopard straining to escape.

The leopard growled, his body trembling as he strained harder. With a crack, the snow bulged up around his chest, breaking apart and forming a fault down the center. He paused, and then heaved upward, the snow breaking apart and giving way. The coyote could only watch in astonishment as Ken managed to completely free his torso, tugging his arms out of the snow. He panted heavily, and then collapsed against the white debris, his arms stretched ahead of himself.

Rusty rushed into action, pulling away the snow that remained around the leopard's upper body, throwing it behind himself. Ken, however, wasn't patient enough to wait for a rescue any longer. He lifted up his chest, struggling to raise his hips and break the snow away from them. With his chest freed, it was much easier for him to push the snow off of himself. As the snow popped, Rusty wrapped his arms around Ken's chest, looping his arms under the leopard's armpits.

"Just relax, hun, and don't struggle," he warned.

Ken nodded in understanding as Rusty gave a sharp tug against the fallen snow, which strained in protest. There was a series of cracks, and with a burst of snow the pair tumbled back into the open alcove. Rusty panted lightly as he laid on his back with the leopard in his arms, relaxing a moment before he sat up.

"Come on, let's get you out of here. We need to get you warmed up," he said softly.

Ken nodded in agreement, his body shivering uncontrollably as he held himself close to the coyote. His clothes clung wetly to his fur as he sat up with a bit of a wobble, then fell back into Rusty's arms. The coyote leaned in and kissed his cheek softly, lifting Ken and gently propping him up against the wall of the passage.

"Just sit tight, I'll have us out in no time," he said as he picked up his poker, handing the leopard the flash light.

The coyote began to quickly stab the poker into the snow pile, throwing chunks aside and enlarging the hole that he had created. With Ken removed, the snow was relatively easy to shift away, pushing the pile aside until he was easily able to squeeze through. He then shuffled over to Ken and draped his arms around the leopard's shoulders, hugging him close.

"Can you crawl out on your own, or do you want me to help?" he asked lightly.

"I-I think I can make it," Ken replied, leaning into the hug.

Rusty nodded to him as Ken slid out of his arms, leaning down onto his hands and knees and climbing over the pile of broken snow. He stretched himself out to wiggle over the narrowest portion, pulling himself forward with a grunt. Rusty reached up, placing a paw on his hips and giving a gentle push to help him through. Once the leopard pulled his legs free he was right behind him, pulling himself over the pile and into the cabin.

Ken reached over and grabbed the door frame, pulling himself up against it to stand up. He wobbled for a moment, and then fell against it, grabbing tightly to support himself. The coyote was on him immediately, wrapping his arms around the cat's waist to balance him.

"Easy, hun. I don't think you should be standing up so soon."

The leopard nodded in agreement, feeling thoroughly exhausted from the whole ordeal. "Help me up the ladder. I...just want to lay down and sleep."

Rusty nodded, reaching up and taking Ken's wrist. He looped the leopard's arm around his shoulder to support him, his other arm sliding up around the cat's chest. He then stood upright, stepping slowly forward. Ken gingerly stepped forward with him, and then stumbled. Rusty bent down quickly to catch him, preventing the leopard from falling.

"You know what, I'm just going to carry you," the coyote said bluntly.

Rusty pulled himself in front of the leopard and knelt down, grabbing Ken's other arm and draping it over his shoulder. Ken took a deep breath to steady himself, then shifted his hips forward and squeezed his thighs around the coyote's waist. Rusty grunted lightly at this, surprised that the leopard still had enough strength to grip him so firmly. He stood up and carefully took a step forward, testing his balance, then stepped slowly toward the ladder leading up to the loft.

"Hold on tight, and whatever you do, don't let go," he warned, reaching up to grip the rungs on the ladder.

He placed a foot up, and then hefted himself onto the ladder, which creaked at the added weight. He gripped at the rungs tightly, taking another step and lifting himself upward, moving slowly to ensure that his weight stayed forward. He paused once he was near the top of the ladder and ducked forward, realizing that the gap at the top of the ladder was barely large enough.

"Duck down, hun. Don't hit your head," he said lightly.

The leopard squeezed himself up close to the coyote as Rusty resumed his ascent, leaning forward to allow Ken to climb off his back and onto the floor of the loft. The coyote followed close after, holding Ken back as he made his way to the bed.

"Clothes off, hun. You can't climb into bed like that," he warned.

Ken glanced down at himself, his shirt clinging tightly to his chest, and nodded. He reached down and tugged his shirt off, dropping it onto the floor beside himself with a wet plop. He fumbled with the button on his pants for a moment, trying to undo it, but had difficulty getting his fingers to work. Rusty sighed lightly, scooting in behind the leopard and reaching around his waist.

With a well-practiced motion, he popped the button and pulled down the zipper, helping Ken wiggle out of his pants. He slid them off the leopard's hips, helping Ken out of his clothing. He then slid back, reaching into a nearby chest and extracting a soft fleece blanket. He threw it over Ken and wrapped it snugly around the leopard, helping him into bed.

Ken curled up as Rusty climbed into bed behind him, pressing himself up against the leopard and pulling the comforter over them. He slid his arms around Ken's waist, hugging him close and lightly kissing the back of his neck. Ken was still trembling lightly from the cold, combined with shock. His body was still recovering from the experience.

"I'm sorry for everything," he whispered quietly to the leopard. "This whole mess is my fault."

A tear fell down his cheek as he hugged the cat tightly, emotion welling up inside of him. He had been holding it back until now, but the guilt burned in his mind, reminding him that he had caused this situation. He would have to come clean, sooner or later.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 7

_ I've neglected to write in this for a few days, even though I haven't had much else to do. I suppose I should fill the reader in on why._

_ A few days ago, I was filling in for Rusty while he took a break from digging. I told him it was going to happen sooner or later, and surely enough, the tunnel collapsed while I was digging, trapping me inside. I'm not sure how long I was under the snow before Rusty found me, but it was long enough for the beginning of hypothermia to set in. By the time he managed to dig me out, I couldn't feel my hands._

_ I've been on bed rest ever since the incident. Rusty doesn't want me doing any hard work until he's absolutely sure I'm fine. I feel fine now, but he insists that I wait before I try to spend any significant time out of bed. He's been bringing me my meals, which have been less than satisfying, by the way._

_ The only food we have left is dry oatmeal, combined with emergency rations. Rusty says that if we stretch the rations, we should have enough to hold us out for another week or two, assuming we don't overwork ourselves. We're running low on fuel for the emergency stove, so cooking oatmeal is going to be impossible pretty soon. I suppose uncooked oats is better than rations only. On that note, I hate the emergency rations. They have this lemony taste to them, and the texture leaves something to be desired. It could be worse, I suppose. At least we HAVE food._

_ The other day, Rusty could have sworn he heard thumps on the roof of the cabin. I think he's getting cabin fever. I didn't hear anything, nor do I think we ever will. I'm beginning to think they're not going to find us until the snow melts in Spring._

* * * * * * *

Ken sat up in bed, gazing around in the darkness. His spotted tail flicked back and forth, thumping softly against the bed. He reached over to the nightstand and fumbled around in the darkness for the battery-powered lantern, patting lightly until his paw found it. He flicked it on, the element inside flickering for a moment before the fluorescent glow filled the room.

As he sat up, his belly gave a soft growl, reminding him that it was time to eat. Despite the high energy-content of the rations, they left him feeling perpetually hungry. He hadn't felt satisfied in days. He sighed as he slid out of bed, making his way down the ladder to the living room with lantern In hand. He glanced casually over at the tunnel as he stepped past, but then paused.

"Fuck."

The passage had completely caved in. Worse yet, the tools he and Rusty had been using to dig out were still inside, which meant they had nothing to dig with. He leaned his head back and let out a yell of frustration that reverberated through the rafters, and then made his way to the kitchen with heavy footsteps. He would worry about trying to dig out the mess once he'd had something to eat.

As Ken stepped into the kitchen in the dim light, he paused. He was surprised to see Rusty already there, helping himself to a bowl of oatmeal in cold water. He stepped over and set the lantern down on the stove, then slid up behind the coyote. He gave him a hug around the waist, purring lightly as he cuddled up to him.

"Good morning, hun," he purred softly to the coyote.

Rusty smiled and turned to face him, leaning down and kissing the bridge of his muzzle. "Good morning to you too, kitten. I see you're feeling well."

Ken nodded as he leaned up to nuzzle Rusty's cheek, giving him a fond lick. He paused for a moment when a hint of vanilla greeted his tongue. He licked again curiously, the taste growing a bit stronger.

"Well, someone's in a friendly mood," the coyote said with a chuckle.

Ken didn't really respond, pushing Rusty back against the counter as he pulled the coyote's head toward himself, nibbling lightly at one of his ears. The pleasant vanilla taste that greeted his tongue was stronger here, spurring the leopard's hunger. He stomach gave another rumbling growl, reminding him that he needed food.

Without thinking, he slipped his muzzle over the coyote's ear, suckling lightly on it. Rusty shivered at this, squirming against the leopard a bit. Ken sighed happily as his teeth grazed over the coyote's ear, letting his tongue slurp over the inside lightly. He wasn't sure why the coyote tasted like vanilla, but he was enjoying every moment of it.

Ken yawned widely, still a bit groggy from his earlier sleep. As he did, he leaned down a little, tucking the top of the coyote's head into his jaws with surprising ease. He blinked at this for a moment, his tongue plastered up against Rusty's face. The coyote looked a bit baffled by this, wiggling his head and lifting it up a little. The motion only served to slip his muzzle into the leopard's jaws, giving the coyote an eyeful of dripping muzzle.

Ken paused a moment to consider as his belly gave another loud growl, his tongue slipping beneath the coyote's chin. He wasn't sure why he did it, but he let out a soft purr as his jaws stretched forward over Rusty's head until his lips were tucked around the coyote's neck, the warm nose poking against the back of his throat.

Rusty squirmed in startled surprise as this, pushing his paws up against the leopard's chest and trying to push the cat off. Ken growled lightly and reached up, grabbing the coyote by the wrists and gulping suddenly. His throat rippled and latched on to the muzzle as he pulled the coyote toward himself, hunching over him and swallowing again. He was a bit surprised as the ease which the coyote's head slid down into his throat, but he didn't stop there.

His jaws gaped open as his tongue caressed down along Rusty's chest, twisting his head lightly to work the coyote's shoulders into his jaws, one after the other. The coyote squirmed and jerked back as he tried to pull himself free, grunting in muffled protest as his muzzle was clamped shut by the warm, slick muscles that rippled over him. Ken kept a firm hold on him, however, his throat tugging as he hungrily worked to stuff the struggling coyote in farther.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to pursue it, but he was starving, and he knew that the coyote would satisfy that empty feeling, and keep him full for a long time. He hunched over the canine, his jaws slipping down over his chest as wet, lewd gulps filled the kitchen. Satisfied that Rusty's arms were pinned to his sides now, he slid his paws downward and groped at the canine's hips. He then knelt down a little as he hefted Rusty up, sitting the coyote on edge of the counter in such a way that he was leaning right into the hungry leopard's throat.

Ken kneaded and caressed over Rusty's sides as he slurped over his waist, slipping the coyote down farther, his teeth grazing over his stomach and back. He purred blissfully as that pleasant vanilla aroma soaked into his senses, his nose and taste flooded with it. He wanted more. Rusty could only whine and squirm weakly as the drooling jaws crept down over his hips, his upper body squeezed deeper into the leopard.

Cooing his approval around his meal, Ken slipped down onto his knees and leaned his head up, cradling the coyote's hips. He gave them a sudden tug, stuffing them toward his jaws with a rich, satisfying gulp that slid the coyote's hips back into his throat. With only the legs hanging out, he paused a moment when Rusty's head bumped up against the entrance to his stomach. A gentle gulp then admitted the canine inside, the slick passage down into Ken's body resuming.

Ken slipped a paw down to caress over the bulges that slid down his body, enjoying the gentle twitches of the coyote trying to escape his fate. He twisted himself around so that his back was resting against the counter for support, his tongue eagerly licking over Rusty's legs as they descended down into his throat. With only a few more gulps, the coyote's feet slid into his jaws, leaving the leopard to sigh blissfully as a few more gulps slid the unfortunate canine the rest of the way into his body, which worked swiftly to claim its meal.

Ken closed his eyes as he felt the coyote curl up inside of his bloated gut, which sagged out in his lap. His paws caressed over the squirming bulge, a rumbling belch causing his stomach to tighten around the unfortunate victim inside. The canine thrashed inside of the fleshy prison, pushing his paws firmly outward. Ken smiled with a purr as he hugged his gut, purring loudly. He'd never felt so full in his life, and it was wonderful. His ears perked as he heard the coyote call out to him, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

"Ken?" the coyote said, softly at first, giving another firm push. "Ken, let me go."

The leopard laid back and closed his eyes, sighing deeply again as he relaxed, his belly giving another powerful gurgle around the coyote.

"Ken, let me go, you're hurting me," Rusty pleaded with him.

A firm shove jarred the leopard, his eyes flickering open for a moment, but then closing once more.

"Ken, let go!" the coyote growled

"Ow!" A sudden jab to the stomach caused his vision to fade to darkness.

* * * * * * *

Ken's eyes snapped open in flickering light as he felt another sharp jab to his stomach, blinking rapidly. He wasn't quite sure where he was, why it was so dark, or why he suddenly felt so hungry.

"Dammit, Ken, let go of my ear!" the coyote yelled to him.

Ken inhaled suddenly as he came to, getting a sudden whiff of coyote musk. He blinked rapidly again, his tongue flicking up against something soft. He then realized that he tasted blood. He tugged his head back suddenly, causing the coyote to yelp in pain.

"Ow, hey! Knock it off!" Rusty yelped, giving the leopard another jab to the stomach.

Ken blinked again, and then realized that he had his jaws locked around the coyote's ear. He opened his muzzle and pulled back, licking his lips lightly. A fresh taste of blood caused a look of concern to come over his face.

Rusty reached over in the dim light and fumbled for the flashlight, then flicked it on quickly and sat up, shining it over at the leopard.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Ken?" he asked, reaching up and touching his ear lightly.

"S-sorry," the leopard said with a soft yawn. "I was having a dream."

"Obviously," shot a sudden reply. The coyote touched lightly at his ear, which throbbed with pain from the leopard chewing on it.

"The first aid kit is down in the kitchen," Ken said softly.

The leopard sniffed lightly, realizing that the scent of vanilla was lingering in the air. It hadn't just been another part of his dream? He looked around as Rusty climbed down the ladder, and then realized that a small candle was burning on the night stand, warming a glass dish of aromatic oil. The oil was steaming lightly, the rich scent of vanilla filling the loft.

"Hey Rusty, where did you find that oil warmer?" he called down to the coyote.

"Oh, I packed it in our stuff. Thought we could use it when we wanted to relax together. I wasn't expecting it to cause a certain leopard to chew my ear bloody."

Ken snorted lightly at this, resting back on his back and chuckling. At least it was a pleasant dream, even if he was still starving.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 8

_ I had an odd dream last night that I can only attribute to the lack of real nourishment. I woke up chewing on Rusty's ear with the taste of blood in my mouth. I apparently decided while I was asleep that it was an appetizing snack, though Rusty disagreed. We cleaned it up as best we could, and wrapped it in gauze. Hopefully it doesn't get infected._

_ I finally convinced Rusty that I've recovered completely from being buried alive. It took quite a bit of nagging, but he finally caved. We spent the better part of today pulling fallen snow out of the tunnel. We now have a section of the tunnel that's almost tall enough to stand up in, though that doesn't really help our progress. Hopefully that doesn't create a weak spot that causes the whole thing to come down._

_ On an unrelated note, I think Rusty might be coming down with something. He's been coughing from time to time, more so than a typical "I just breathed dust" cough. Hopefully it clears up before it gets worse. The last thing we need is both of us getting sick, when we're already surviving on limited rations._

* * * * * * *

Rusty panted heavily as he shoved loose snow out of the tunnel, his breaths coming in shorter succession than they should have been. His face was red with exertion beneath his grey fur, his body aching for a break. He finally relented once the loose debris was cleared away, inspecting his work as he sat down in the cool snow.

He hunched over suddenly as a heavy cough shook his body, his lungs convulsing for a moment. He reached up and wiped his mouth lightly with a paw, panting still. He could feel a tightness building in his chest, which had been growing progressively throughout the day. He coughed again, spitting into the snow and turning away.

"Just what I need," he grumbled as he crawled out of the tunnel and stood up.

Ken perked up from the shag rug in the living room, a heavy blanket draped over himself with a book in his lap. "What's wrong, hun?"

"Oh, everything is fine. Just feeling a little under the weather from all this work," he replied calmly.

He felt an itch building in his chest, taking a deep breath, and trying to hold back. His effort was in vain, though, another loud cough piercing the silence of the cabin. Ken peeked up from his book again, watching the coyote with concern.

"That doesn't sound like 'everything is fine' to me, hun."

The coyote raised a paw, waving off the statement. "I'll be fine. Probably just coming down with a cold or something. It's not like it will kill me."

Ken didn't look comforted. "I'm watching you, Rusty. I'll tie you to the bed, if I have to."

"Good luck," the coyote said with a chuckle.

Another deep cough stopped him in place for a moment as he held a paw to his chest, his body shaking lightly with each outburst. Despite his reassurances, Rusty was concerned about his well-being.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 9

_ Whatever Rusty caught is definitely rearing its ugly head. He's been trying to cover it up or hold back, but there's no mistaking it. I hope it's just a cold. Rusty claims that it will pass with no problem. I'm not so sure of that. I've had to take up a bit of slack to prevent us from falling behind. It doesn't sound like a wet cough, which is a good sign. It would be a disaster if Rusty came down with pneumonia._

_ Rusty found some cough suppressant in the medicine cabinet, and after a little while he did sound quite a bit better, and felt well enough that he could do some more digging. So hope is not completely lost._

_ On a side-note, we've had to replace the batteries in most of our transmitters now. I told Rusty that he was forbidden from climbing the chimney again, since we haven't had hot water in several days. If it's dead, I suppose we'll just have to live with that._

_ While I'm thinking about hot water, or the lack of, I could really use a steaming hot shower right now. Rusty and I only bathe when we absolutely need it, because of the risk of catching hypothermia. Surprisingly, the cabin has managed to stay a fairly comfortable temperature inside, since the snow is insulating it from the outside. A little on the cold side, but not unbearable._

* * * * * * *

Ken sat up in bed as a deep cough snapped him from his slumber. He gazed over at the coyote, who was sitting at the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, bent over. He trembled for a moment, and then keeled over as another heavy cough shook his body. Ken slid over and lightly touched the coyote's shoulder, cuddling up behind him. He was startled to find that Rusty was surprisingly warm to the touch.

Rusty jumped a little, unaware that the leopard had awakened. He glanced over his shoulder, and then turned away abruptly as he coughed again.

"Are you okay, hun?" Ken asked softly, rubbing Rusty's shoulder.

The coyote nodded, breathing quickly for a moment. He held a hand towel to his face as he coughed again, his lungs sounding much wetter than they previously had been. He sighed quietly, his tail resting limply against the bed. Ken slid his arms around the coyote's waist and gave him a firm hug, resting his cheek on his shoulder.

"I think you need to take a break, Rusty. All this hard work you've been doing is starting to wear down your health."

The coyote snorted lightly at this, hunching over as another deep cough wracked his body. "We don't have time for breaks."

Ken sighed, giving the coyote's waist another squeeze. "I'm not giving you a choice this time, Rusty. Lie down and rest."

The coyote grunted and shook his head at this, but he knew that the leopard wasn't going to let up. Ken was more stubborn than he was, when it came to illness. Ken slid back to give the coyote room as he reluctantly pulled his legs up, lying down in bed and groaning. He tried to take a deep breath, but cringed lightly as a piercing pain shot through his chest. As he laid on his back, if felt like a lead weight was perched on his chest, weighing down on him.

Ken reached out, gently rubbing a paw over the coyote's forehead. He frowned, shaking his head lightly. Rusty was definitely running a fever. It wasn't terrible, but it was concerning all the same.

"Just sit tight, hun. I'll get you a cup of snow to nibble on, and something to eat."

Ken sighed heavily as he slid down the ladder and ran to the kitchen, fetching a cup and scooping it into the pile of snow that had gathered outside of the tunnel. He then pulled out one of the rations and raced back up the ladder, sitting down on the bed beside Rusty. He set down the cup on the nightstand beside the coyote, tearing open the ration and sitting it beside it.

"Get some rest, make sure you eat, and don't let yourself get dehydrated," he warned. "I'm going to get busy digging us out of here. We've got to be getting somewhere, by now."

Rusty coughed loudly, turning his head away from the leopard, but he nodded lightly. "Yeah, sure. Just worry about yourself, Ken. I'll be fine up here."

Ken paused a moment as he considered scolding the coyote's attitude, but he nodded to him, tucking the blanket over him. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, then slid off the bed and climbed down to start working.

Ken sighed again as he picked up the shovel and ducked into the snowy passage. He crawled along on his hands and knees, his mind racing now. He knew that they had to find a way out soon, because without treatment, pneumonia would prove to be fatal.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 10

_ We're moving into the double-digits now. Didn't think we would last this long down here. Admittedly, though, I'm not so sure about Rusty. He's definitely developing full-blown pneumonia. His coughs seem to be growing moister each time, if that is even possible. Hopefully we can dig ourselves out and get him to a doctor before things get too serious._

_ I spent the better part of today digging in the cave, and didn't realize just how worn-out I've become. I almost passed out while I was shoveling out loose snow, from sheer exhaustion. I had to force myself to sit down and rest. I suppose I've been overworking myself a bit today, as it is._

_ Our rations are running low. But I was surprised to find that we have more than I originally thought. I suspect that Rusty has been shorting his share of the rations, because I know that I've been eating the recommended amount. He wouldn't own up to it, though, even if I provided him with evidence._

_ It hurt a little, that Rusty did this for me. It's touching, knowing that he cares for me enough to sacrifice something for himself. But at the same time, it's bittersweet. He's fallen ill, and may not pull through._

_ I don't know what I would do without him._

* * * * * * *

Rusty struggled to focus as he scribbled rapidly over a piece of paper, sweat dripping off his forehead. Despite the high fever that he was running now, it felt like the room was ice around him. He shivered violently, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. Ken hadn't asked him why he wanted paper, and he was grateful for that. As far as Rusty was concerned, it was the last thing he would ever write.

The leopard, meanwhile, was busy in the passage once more. He had worked to angle the passage upward a bit more, mindful of the roof of the tunnel. From where he was sitting in the passage, he could no longer see the living room. Unfortunately, the snow still showed no signs of relenting. It was just as packed as it had always been, and there was no sign of breaking through to the outside.

He sighed as he thrust the shovel into the ground, leaning against it. He panted heavily, reaching up to wipe his forehead, which was wet with exertion. Deciding it was time for food, he slid out of the passageway, mindful to bring the shovel with him in case another cave-in happened. An echoing cough caught his ears, the leopard gazing up at the loft and shaking his head.

"That's not good," commented a voice from above.

Ken tilted his head at this, and approached the base of the ladder. "What's not good?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Rusty replied somewhat calmly. "Just coughing more stuff up."

Ken shrugged lightly and turned, walking to the kitchen as Rusty adjusted the blanket, continuing to write. The coyote gazed at the rag that he had coughed into, eyeing the flecks of blood and yellow fluids that stained the surface. He thumped his head back into the pillow with frustration, putting down his pen and paper for a moment.

He gazed up at the ceiling, his chest aching each time he drew a breath. He doubled over in bed as a series of coughs rattled him, his chest burning as his lungs struggled to clear. A fresh taste of blood in his mouth reminded him of just how serious his sickness was. He sighed deeply as he laid back in the pillow again.

"I don't care what happens," he muttered to himself, "I just want this to be over with."

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 11

_ I thought I saw sunlight when I was digging today, but almost fifteen minutes of frantic digging yielded no such luck. I think my mind is starting to play tricks on me. It's getting harder to dig, though. The stretches of work seem to be growing shorter each time. My muscles refuse to cooperate. I tell myself that I have to keep digging, but eventually my body gives out and I fall into a stupor while I recuperate._

_ I hate the rations. I think I would sooner starve to death, than continue eating them. It's the same thing, every day. If we have to go through this many more days, though, I may get my wish. Either the rations will run out, or my body will finally succumb to exhaustion and give up._

_ When I'm not in the tunnel, pressing my body to its limits, I'm up in the loft taking care of Rusty. I have to force him to eat. He says it hurts to swallow. It wouldn't surprise me, considering how hard he coughs. He started sounding a bit better when we woke up this morning, but then his cough returned with a vengeance._

_ Rusty has spent the better part of the day writing something. He won't tell me what, though, and he gets very territorial when I try to peek at it. He tells me that I'm not allowed to read it, ever. It's intended for his father, apparently. Considering his attitude as of late, I'm not sure I even want to know what he's writing about._

* * * * * * *

Ken sat down at the edge of the bed, gently resting a plate beside himself with a chunk of a ration and some water. He reached up and gently pet over Rusty's ears, then pressed a paw lightly against the coyote's forehead. He sighed, an intense heat pulsing against his paw. The coyote's fever didn't seem to be improving at all. If anything, it had grown progressively worse over the past few hours.

Ken lifted his paw into the air and snapped his fingers loudly next to Rusty's ear, but didn't get a response. Not even a flick. The coyote was still breathing, though. Perhaps a little fast, but he wasn't dead. He lightly pressed his paw against Rusty's shoulder and gave him a little shake, hoping he could awaken him. The coyote groaned lightly, but didn't respond beyond that.

"Come on, Rusty, snap out of it," he said, lightly shaking him again.

The coyote shifted a bit, which was better than the previous attempt. Another firm shake brought him around, Rusty's eyes fluttering open after a long moment. The coyote blinked a few times, gazing directly at the leopard, though Ken had the feeling that Rusty was staring right through him. His eyes were unfocused and had a glazed look.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he smiled, caressing Rusty's cheek lightly.

The coyote blinked several times, lifting his head a little to look at the leopard that was perched over him. He didn't say anything, though. Ken ducked to the side quickly as the coyote hunched over, avoiding a rapid succession of hacking coughs.

Ken reached over to the nightstand to grab the coyote's rag, handing it to him. Rusty coughed several more times into it, leaving a splatter of pink and yellow stained fluid on it. Ken eyed this with concern, looking at Rusty.

"How long has this been going on for?" he inquired.

Rusty shook his head lightly, giving a shrug as he dropped the rag beside himself on the blanket. "Couldn't tell you. Long enough, I suppose."

Ken sighed, rubbing a paw back and forth over Rusty's side. "Well, I brought you something to eat, either way. Try and get some of it down. You need nourishment."

Rusty eyed the small plate beside himself, grunting at the sight of the ration. "I'm really not feeling hungry," he replied calmly.

"Don't make me force feed you, Rusty. You have to eat."

"Don't worry about me," the coyote replied suddenly. "You worry about digging yourself out of this snowed-in tomb. I don't know if I'm going to pull through."

Tears welled up in Ken's eyes at the scathing words. He reached up, sharply slapping the coyote across the muzzle. "Don't talk like that, dammit. We're both going to get out of this alive."

Rusty looked shocked, laying in stunned silence for a moment. His muzzle throbbed where Ken had struck him. He reached up, lightly rubbing a paw over the area to soothe the stinging sensation. He sighed softly, turning his head to the side. He couldn't gather up the motivation to look the leopard in the eyes.

"I hope you're right, Ken," he replied, snatching his rag as another painful cough shot through him.

Ken shook his head with a sigh, stepping away from the bed. He didn't know whether to be angry or upset. He jumped down the ladder as Rusty hacked again, ducking quickly into the passage through the front door. His breathing quickened as he tried to hold back his emotions, a tear dripping down. He didn't bother to pick up the shovel, falling against the end of the tunnel and sinking to the ground. He buried his face in his knees as he let his feelings go, tears streaming down his cheeks as he began to sniffle in the cold passage.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 12

_ I don't even know what to write anymore. It seems so pointless. It's the same thing, day after day. I was barely able to make any progress today. Between the total lack of energy and the perpetual cloud of doom that hangs over my head, I just can't muster the motivation to put out any real effort._

_ Rusty isn't doing any better. He's becoming more difficult to awaken, and even when he is awake, he's not always "there." Between his pneumonia and the high fever as a result, he's been rather out of it. He's been coughing up blood recently. I don't know how long that's been going on for, and Rusty won't tell me. It's just one thing on top of another._

_ I don't think we're ever going to see the light of day. The way things are looking, they'll probably find our frozen, dead bodies when they finally get around to clearing the snow away from the cabin._

* * * * * * *

"Rusty, wake up!"

Ken gave the coyote a firm shake, his heart racing as he tried to awaken the unresponsive canine. Rusty's breathing was much shallower than usual, the breaths rapid and short. He wasn't familiar with emergency medicine, though, and had no idea what he was supposed to do, or if there was even anything he could do.

Ken gave the coyote another shake, trying to rouse him. He reached a paw up, slapping Rusty lightly on the cheek, but that wasn't any more effective than shaking him. He began to panic as he checked the coyote's pulse, pressing his fingers firmly against his neck. It took him a few moments to even find it, much weaker than he would have expected.

"Dammit, Rusty, wake up!" he pleaded, giving the coyote a much rougher shake. Rusty groaned lightly at the shake, giving Ken a little hope. He didn't open his eyes, however.

The leopard whimpered and wrapped his arms around Rusty's shoulders, pulling the coyote up into a sitting position. He hugged him tightly, cradling the unresponsive canine against himself and burying his muzzle in Rusty's neck. His breaths were shaky as he tried to fight back tears, listening to the coyote. Rusty's breathing was becoming more erratic, his chest barely rising each time he inhaled.

He hugged Rusty again, and then gently laid the coyote back. He caressed along Rusty's cheek as he watched him, his ears laid back. It was difficult for him to come to terms with what was happening. He glanced over at his journal that was sitting on the nightstand, quickly snatching it up and pulling away the pen that was clipped to it. At very least, he might be able to distract himself for a little while. He sat down on the floor, leaned up against the bed, and began to scribble furiously.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 13

_ There's really no point to me writing this journal, aside from distracting me from...well, myself. Rusty won't wake up. I've tried and tried, and just won't respond. He's still running a really high fever, but recently he's been having noticeable trouble breathing. He breathes really fast, in short breaths. I don't think he's getting much air at all._

_ I wish there was something I could do for him. I feel so helpless, just sitting here and watching my boyfriend die. I can't even comfort him. It's like his body is on autopilot right now. I don't know if he can even hear me._

_ I've pretty much given up trying to awaken him. All I can do now is wait for something to happen, one way or another. I'm tempted to read the letter than Ken wrote. He left it in an envelope on the nightstand, but he sealed it, and it's addressed to his dad. I should fight off my curiosity, though. It's not any of my business._

_ I never thought any of this would happen. Rusty had planned this ski trip for months. He couldn't stop talking about how beautiful the area around the cabin is, and how pristine the ski slopes are that we would be visiting. He looked so excited when we got here, and especially when he showed me his dad's souped-up snowmobile._

_ Then the avalanche hit, and everything changed. Now I'm stuck here, sitting at the bedside in the loft, listening to the sounds of my boyfriend struggling to breathe. What did I do to deserve this? I've been a good person...ish. I just wanted to enjoy a quiet weekend in the mountains with my boyfriend. I didn't want any of this to ha--_

* * * * * * *

Ken leapt up from the floor, dropping his pen and journal as Rusty jolted suddenly on the bed, a sharp gasp breaking the silence. He kneeled over the coyote, watching him intently. He held his breath for a long moment, his heart racing.

Rusty wasn't breathing.

Ken knelt down close to him, pressing his ear to the coyote's chest and listening in the silence of the cabin. He could faintly hear a heartbeat, but it was irregular. There were no lung sounds, however. He listened intently, hoping for any indication of improvement, but heard none. The faint heartbeat was fading quickly.

Another sudden gasp caused Ken to jump backwards, landing hard on his rump on the floor. His heart pounded in his chest from the startle, his eyes resting on the coyote. He waited for him to breathe again, but once more, he waited in the silence. He leapt back to his feet, leaning over Rusty and tearing through the steps of CPR in his mind. He knew what he had to do, but as he looked at his boyfriend, something in the back of his mind held him back, and he paused.

Let him go.

Ken held his position as he gazed down at the motionless coyote, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He trembled lightly as he rested a paw on Rusty's cheek, leaning down and kissing the coyote's opposite cheek gently. He caressed the soft fur, then nuzzled against Rusty's ear.

"I love you, Rusty," he whispered into it.

Ken stood up again, taking one more look at Rusty before he reached down. He pulled the sheet from beneath the comforter, stretching it out before pulling it up over the coyote's body. His chest rose and fell quickly as he choked back his tears, gently laying the sheet over Rusty's face and letting it settle over the coyote.

He stepped back to observe the outline of the coyote's form through the sheet, kneeling down at the edge of the bed after a long moment of silence. He draped an arm over Rusty's midsection, resting his cheek against the coyote's hip. He closed his eyes tightly as he whimpered, his eyes welling up with tears. He gripped the sheet tightly, clenching his fists as a sob echoed through the cabin, the leopard breaking down into a fit of crying.

His first and only love was suddenly taken from him. He would never see him again. Several hours would pass before he would consider moving from Rusty's bedside.

* * * * * * *

Ken's Journal Entry, Day 15

_ I have nothing left to live for. I'm still trapped in this damned cabin, and my boyfriend is dead. I haven't had the appetite to eat anything since then. I have to remind myself just to drink water, so that I don't get dehydrated. I can barely walk, I'm so weak._

_ I didn't even really get to say goodbye to him._

_ I dragged a sleeping bag out of the closet to use as a makeshift body bag. It took me a good deal of time just gathering the courage to put Rusty in it. He looked so peaceful, though. He's free from everything._

_ I suppose I should get another sleeping bag for myself, to prepare for the inevitable. That way, if someone finds us, we'll at least be together._

_ On that note, I've been sleeping on the couch, though I'm not sure I would really consider it sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I have vivid nightmares that wake me up in a cold sweat. It almost terrifies me to sleep._

_ I'm tempted to raid the medicine cabinet, and see if I can find something to end this suffering. It's not worth fighting any more. Even if I do escape, what then? My life will never be the same without him._

* * * * * * *

Ken rolled over and fell off the couch with a dull thud, grunting loudly as he hit the floor. He laid face down on the wood floor for a moment, sitting up after a long moment and rubbing his head. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for. He rubbed his eyes, his body aching and weak from the lack of food. As he gazed across the living room, a faint glow from the passageway caught his attention. Had he left the lantern on?

He rested a paw on the couch, and then pulled himself up to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, his vision suddenly blurring and going completely dark. He swayed violently as he tried to catch himself, but fell to the floor again as he blacked out.

The leopard stirred several moments later as a soft, but high-pitched whine caught his attention, his ears perking up. He lifted his head from the floor, gazing around in the dim light of the living room for the source. He carefully got up to his knees, deciding against standing. He crawled slowly in the direction of the noise, his ears focused on it. It was coming from the front door.

He kept his head up as he approached the door, poking his head into the passage. He then realized that the sound was coming from directly above him. He backed away from the passage and looked up, realizing that the source of the noise was the avalanche beacon. He had completely forgotten about them. It was likely the only one that had any charge left.

He took a deep breath to clear his head as he grabbed the doorframe, pulling himself to his feet. He then stretched up while trembling, grabbing the beacon and giving it a sharp jerk to tug it free. He then sat down with his back to the doorframe, eyeing the device. It continued to whine as he focused on the screen, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do.

Ken's ears perked up as a bark caught his attention. He glanced at the passageway that he was sitting at the mouth of, his tail flicking slowly back and forth. He heard another bark, his ears focusing on it.

"I'm going crazy," he muttered, noticing the thin stream of light shining through the end of the passage. "Either that, or I'm dreaming."

He held up the beacon in the dim light, which continued to whine endlessly. He shook his head lightly, setting it down in the snow beside himself, running his fingers idly through the dense white material. Another bark snapped him to attention, his head turning toward the source. He sat in the silence as the stream of light filtering through the cave seemed to grow more intense.

His ears perked this way and that as a series of excited barks reached his ears, muffled but distinct. Curious, he leaned over and moved into the passage on his hands and knees. He crept along the cold snow, his ears listening to the barking, which grew more distinct as he crawled toward the end of the tunnel. As he reached the end of the cave, he could see an intense beam of light piercing through the snow, illuminating the inside of his snowy passage.

Ken reached up cautiously and touched his paw to the wall of snow where the light was shining through, holding his breath for a long moment. An excited yip startled him from his quiet moment, the beam of light erratically shifting between shadowed and not. He sat back away from the end of the passage, a baffled look on his face. Moments later there was a dull thump of something striking the snow. He backed up a bit more, his eyes locked on the snow ahead of himself.

Another sharp thump broke the silence, the barking quieted for now. His heart quickened as he waited in the passage, unsure of what exactly was happening. Without warning, a spray of snow filled the end of the tunnel, the wall breaking away and falling in. Ken groaned as an intense beam of sunlight caught his eyes, reaching a paw up to shade himself.

Immediately, Ken was marauded by a dark blur. He closed his eyes and yelped in surprise as he felt a warm tongue licking eagerly over his face, and then his hearing was filled with the sounds of excited barking. He opened his eyes to see a dark, four-legged figure facing the bright opening, barking furiously. As his vision focused, he made out the distinct pattern of a German Shepherd, a vivid red vest adorning his chest with a white cross on the side.

"This can't be real," he whimpered to himself as he reached out for the dog. As Ken leaned forward, a wave of dizziness rushed over him. He groaned as he fell face-first into the snow, blacking out completely.

* * * * * * *

"We need a rescue sled here!"

Ken groaned as he was stirred from unconsciousness. His eyes opened after several moments, his vision blurry. He could see the outline of a figure hunched over him, casting a dark silhouette as the bright light shined through the passageway. How had he ended up on his back?

"You're okay now, son," a soft voice said to him. "Everything is going to be fine."

Ken blinked as he tried to focus his eyes on the figure above himself. As he reached up with an arm, he became aware of a warm body sitting beside himself. He glanced to his right as his eyes finally adjusted themselves, spotting the familiar canine, which was calmly sprawled out on his stomach, head up and alert.

Ken turned back up to gaze at his rescuer, the figure still shadowed by the sunlight at his back. The long, slender ears gave away a distinctly lapine species, though he couldn't make out any distinctions beyond that. He blinked a few times, trying to make out whether or not this was real. It felt convincing enough.

"Thank God," he said quietly, catching the attention of the rescuer.

The man smiled, leaning down close enough to where Ken could make out his chocolate-brown fur. "You're spot on about that, son. It's a miracle that you've pulled through this long."

The rabbit leaned up as a scraping sound caught Ken's attention. The dog leapt up to his feet and backed up several steps as a large, red sled slid in next to the leopard. He felt a pair of paws slide beneath his shoulders, tensing up for a moment.

"Just relax, son. We're going to get you out of here," the rabbit said gently.

Then, with a sudden heave, Ken felt his upper body slide over onto the sled. He was surprised how easily the rescuer moved him. He lifted his head to watch as he felt the rescuer climb over him, his legs lifted onto the sled moments later. He laid back against the padded surface as the rescuer began to loosen the straps, looping them over him and buckling the ends together.

Ken closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing against the sled as he felt the ties over his chest tighten down. He then grunted as something warm laid on the sled against him. He lifted his head, spotting the rescue dog sprawled out calmly beside him. He then squeaked in surprise as the sled was tugged backwards with an unexpected jerk.

He groaned in protest as the bright sunlight met his eyes when he was pulled out of the snowy cave. He squinted, almost closing his eyes entirely. The light was almost painful to him. Two weeks of low light in the cabin had conditioned him to the dim environment. He tried to reach up with a paw to shield his eyes from the light, but realized that they were strapped down at his sides.

He settled for keeping his eyes closed as the sun beamed down on him, finding it surprisingly warm. His exhaustion caught up with him soon enough, however. Despite the bumping and jarring of the sled he was on, he soon drifted off, the world around him fading away into a blissful slumber.

* * * * * * *

"Come on, Ken, snap out of it," a familiar voice said quietly.

Ken awakened abruptly to a light pat on the cheek. His ears perked up as a steady chirping caught his attention. He looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where he was. He noticed a monitor on the wall, which seemed to be the source of the chirping. He tried to sit up, but several hands pushed down against him and eased him back to the bed.

"Don't sit up, son. You need to relax. You're going to be weak for some time."

Ken turned his head, his eyes falling on a brown rabbit wearing an official-looking uniform. He recognized the patch on his shoulder as one belonging to a medic. He nodded to the rabbit and relaxed back on the bed he was stretched out on. The hands relaxed as he did, and then pulled away. He looked around for a moment, seeing several other medics standing around him. He glanced down as he felt a tug on his arm. An IV line was taped to the inside of his elbow, one of the medics injecting something into one of the ports.

Ken then looked to his right, his eyes falling upon a large coyote, who smiled when their eyes met. His eyes widened, and he tried to sit up abruptly. There was a rattle as his IV line clattered against the bed. The lapine medic cursed under his breath, but didn't make an attempt to push him back down.

"Don't get up," he warned.

Ken blinked several times as he stared at the coyote, then shook his head lightly. "Mr. McCarthy?"

The coyote laughed, shaking his head. "You'll never learn, will 'ya lad?" he responded with a slight Scottish accent. "The name's Andy. Never call me 'mister' anything."

Ken blinked several times, then blushed a little with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"No harm done, lad," the coyote chuckled. He leaned forward, adjusting his spectacle glasses. "It's good to see that you pulled through. I feared that you two had been buried in that avalanche when I heard about it. You're lucky we found you when we did."

Ken nodded lightly, his ears falling at the mention of luck. He was lucky. Rusty hadn't been so fortunate. He wasn't sure if he could gather the courage to tell Rusty's father about his son's fate. The coyote tilted his head, seeing the sudden change in expression.

"What's troubling 'ya, lad?"

Ken sighed softly, his mind pouring over the possible responses. He gazed down at the floor of the ambulance, his ears laid flat against his head. As he lifted his head to speak, however, there was a knock on the back door.

A rescuer poked his head in, and Ken recognized him as the one who initially pulled him out.

"Excuse me, Mr. McCarthy? We think we've found your son."

The coyote's eyes lit up, and he stood up from his seat. "Where is he?"

A knot formed in Ken's stomach as the rescuer gestured away from the ambulance. "I need you to come with me."

* * * * * * *

Ken lifted his head as the door to the ambulance opened again. The large coyote ducked in and sat down beside his bed, the large ears laid flat. He was clutching an envelope in his hand, which Ken recognized immediately. Ken reached over, gently touching the coyote's arm.

"I'm sorry about Rusty," he said quietly. "I did everything I could."

The coyote lifted his head, gazing over at Ken. He shook his head softly, remaining silent for a long moment. "There was nothin' ya could do, lad."

Ken nodded softly at the response, unsure of what else he could say. He laid back on the soft bed as an engine roared to lift. The doors on the ambulance closed and there was a quick tap on the window, followed by a gentle lurch as the ambulance crept forward.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

The paramedic gazed down at Ken with a chuckle. "You've got a couple days of R&R ahead of you. We want to make sure everything is okay before we release you."

Ken nodded, turning back to the coyote, who was focused intently on the sealed envelope in his hand. After several long moments, he reluctantly tore open the top of the envelope and pulled out the paper tucked inside. Ken turned away and closed his eyes as the coyote began to read over the contents.

* * * * * * *

_ Dear Dad,_

_ There's only one real reason that I'm writing this letter. Had I been rescued from the avalanche, I would have burned it and taken my secret with me to the grave. I'm sorry that it had to end this way. I didn't think I would ever die like this, trapped under an ungodly amount of snow, drowning in my own lungs._

_ This is all my fault. This whole mess is my fault. I wish I could go back and fix my fuck up. I would give anything to be able to do it. And now I can't even get us out of this mess that I caused. I can't even get myself out of bed._

_ I caused the avalanche. It wasn't supposed to happen. It was just a dumb prank that ended in a disaster. I snuck one of the charges from your stash that I stumbled across in the garage. I thought it would be funny to wake Ken up with a bang. I didn't think it would cause the whole mountain to come down on top of us._

_ All this, for a stupid prank. I deserve to die. This is my punishment. I just hope Ken makes it out okay. He's still got a full life ahead of him. Not me, though. I doubt I'll make it much longer._

Dad, I'd like for Ken to have my stuff, if he makes it out alive. It's only fair. He'sI was his first boyfriend, and may very well be his only one. I don't know how he'll handle himself without me. I just hope he recovers from this whole mess.

_ I want you to take care of Ken, dad. You're practically a second father to him. You're the only parental figure in this life that actually accepted him for what he was. His parents have never forgiven him for being gay._

_ Take care of him for me, please. He deserves a better life. He needs a father, especially now. He needs your support._

_ I hope you can forgive me for what I've done. I know I don't deserve it. And dad...tell Ken I love him._

~Andrew "Rusty" McCarthy II

* * * * * * *

The old coyote sighed heavily as his eyes scanned over the letter. He shook his head softly, folding it back up and stuffing the paper back into the envelope. He tucked it away into the lining of his jacket, and then looked up at Ken, whose gaze met his immediately.

"Everything will be just fine," Andrew said, reaching out and taking Ken's paw in his own and squeezing it lightly. "Rusty loved you very much. His last wishes were that you would be looked after."

Ken nodded lightly, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. Even in death, Rusty always made sure that his needs were met.

"We'll pull through this together," the coyote said softly to Ken.

Ken smiled softly and nodded with appreciation. "Thank you, Andy. It means a lot."

"Aye, I'm glad to hear that, lad."

Ken kept a hold on the coyote's paw as he laid back, squeezing it gently. "I love you too, Rusty," he whispered . . .