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I didn’t notice the seeping cold until the warm wolf body unwrapped itself around me, then shifted out of bed. The scents of musk and dried sweat filled my nose, as well as fresh frost on the window.

A muzzle leaned down to kiss my cheek, then whisper in my feline ear, “Merry Christmas, Adam.”

I blinked up to see the smiling timber wolf kneeling above my side. We were both naked as the day of our births. He was the only one hard, the tip of his shaft leaking against my thigh.

“Merry Christmas, Low,” I murmured, chuckling as I glanced at the nightstand clock. “It’s almost breakfast. We don’t have time…”

Lowell rubbed his length against my thigh as I shifted it away. “Awww,” he whined. “But what about a quickie?”

“We had one last night,” I said. My legs wobbled and my tail thrashed until it calmed down, and I could practically still feel my boyfriend’s seed slosh around inside me. “And my ass is still sore. And the last thing I need is to explain to my parents why we were late.”

“It’s not like they don’t know or judge,” he tried arguing.

I circled around the bed and joined him in the bathroom of our hotel room—our home at the moment. “Just because they don’t judge us doesn’t mean they wanna know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lowell laughed.

***

No doubt, Canada knew how to celebrate Christmas.

The Canadian interim government was slowly rebuilding the country, but meanwhile, Devout American forces still held a tight grip on Toronto. Negotiations for peace stagnated, as did our resistance cell’s plans to transfer to Ottawa as asylum seekers. The reasons for the multiple delays amounted to Devout quislings and sympathizers regularly setting off bombs as well as the damaged Canadian bureaucracy being unstaffed to nonexistent. The whole situation made my feline hackles rise up each time we got delayed updates.

At least until January, that left us stuck in Sudbury, Ontario. Even so, despite the red tape and looming threat of war across the continent, the rest of us found a way to celebrate Christmas. We were certainly busy throughout December. At the Marigold Suites Hotel we remained housed in, we all pitched in helping to decorate a Christmas tree brought in from our of town, hanging ornaments or making our own. Due to the freedom of post-Devout occupation, it felt like Greater Sudbury itself came to life once the snow fell. Everyone with electrical power put up Christmas lights, cubs with winter clothes built snow forts or had frequent snowball fights on the streets, and everyone built snowmen. There wasn’t a block where you couldn’t hear someone singing carols aloud, be it alone or together in groups. It did not matter. The cold yet cheerful atmosphere alone made us forget anything existed beyond Ontario, or Canada.

Each of us found different ways to celebrate; Abigail and Jordan helped Jeannie craft popcorn string for the massive tree at one point. Lucius and Oscar, when they weren’t continuously listening to Devout chatter or searching for updates on the war back home, became the community center’s tech specialists so the town could organize activities (local cubs and preteens were so happy) like films or dances, with Olivia being the muscle to lift heavy equipment for them. Nancy could be found singing with an impromptu caroling troupe comprised of older women. Old Nick and Blu often disappeared together in the local taverns, drunkenly singing those same songs and telling stories to Sudbury locals who wanted to hear more about how he defied Devout America. Lowell liked joining him every so often but reigned in after once spending his entire asylum allowance on one night of drinking.

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Lange joined my parents and I in attending a nondenominational church. Mom and Dad especially brightened up at being able to freely mention Santa Claus and Yuletide in public without looking over their shoulders. I didn’t force Lowell to join us, but he would always ask about it once in a while. Nobody knew where Nancy or Johanna or everyone else went during the day. However, it did culminate in everyone having a grand Christmas Eve feast hosted by hotel staff in the cafeteria, with some town residents joining us or bringing their own cooked food. By the time everyone finished eating, nobody could bother staying up any longer and yearned to go to their hotel rooms for sleep, including me and Lowell.

Still, it didn’t stop the two of us from having some frisky fun under the covers. I certainly enjoyed giving him an early present to unwrap, hehe.

***

“Merry Christmas, Lowell!” Johanna handed my boyfriend a paper bag-wrapped box tied with string and a big bow. “It took me a few favors, but I knew you’d want it.”

We were all returned to the first-floor lobby, seated at a large round table in our pajamas. Breakfast still rested in everyone’s stomachs. Piles of opened gifts lay at everyone’s feet, with one of the staff—a pleasant panther named Michael—volunteering to quietly pick up trash for us. None of us forgot to give quiet thanks, and happily wish him a merry Christmas. The only ones not present were Old Nick and the Langes, the latter of whom insisted on attending a church service while my parents and I preferred spending Christmas morning with our friends. As for Old Nick, the mongoose was nursing a hangover as well as enduring a food coma. He ate and drank schnapps too much the night before.

Lowell shook the mysterious box beside a raised ear. “Is it a dildo?” the wolf asked unabashedly, making me and several others roll our eyes. The older doe included. “What? I can’t think of anything you’d waste political favors over, Johanna.”

“Not so much political favors as shipment favors, you perverted brat,” she chastised him, chuckling as she motioned to me. “And what do you need a sex toy for?”

“Yeah, Low,” I said, turning to the timber wolf. My smirk matched my wolf’s usual cocky demeanor. “What do you need one for?”

“Uhh, I’ll open my present then!” He hastily began unwrapping the box, revealing it to be black with white text on both sides. “Holy crap, is that…Johanna, I can’t believe you decided to get me…!”

“‘Cards Against Decency’?” I read the siding.

“Ever played Apples to Apples?” Lowell asked everyone collectively. Those who didn’t nod or say yes like I did, they looked at the box in confusion. “Imagine that, but you give the most raunchy, incorrect, or funny answers you can.”

“Only you’d have that kind of thing on your Christmas list, Low,” Olivia said. “It’s got extremely bad taste.”

“It’s also extremely popular over in the Western Republic, and the Devout banned it the moment they could,” Lowell boasted, opening the lid to survey the two piles of cards inside. “Anybody interested in playing?”

“I’ll join,” Johanna chimed in.

“Me too,” Olivia said with a raised paw.

I perked an ear, smiling at the excited canine. “I’ll join too,” came my reply. “Mom, Dad, how about you?”

“Uh, sure Sonny,” Dad answered.

My tabby tail wagged against the chair’s legs beneath us. He might have fooled everyone, but being his son, I knew my father wanted to play and only tried to appear reluctant. Ever since our escape to Ontario, I’d seen my Dad be less and less uptight and prudish, as if the Archangels followed us all the way from Chicago. He insisted on keeping some kind of front though, much to my amusement and Lowell’s.

He glanced at Mom. “Liz, do you wanna join?”

“Sure, why not?” She bashfully shrugged, letting out a purring giggle. “It’s been years since I played Apples to Apples, so I’m sure I’ll catch on quick.”

“Anyone else?” Lowell asked.

To which the entire cell gave quick answers ranging from interest to genuine curiosity.

“Fuck yeah, that makes all of us!” Lowell pulled out the cards and began dispersing decks to each of us present, grinning that wolfish smile. “Let’s get started.”

***

Minutes later, everyone was ready. Albeit after Johanna and Lowell explained the rules to a couple of us, we all finished blushing scarlet at some of the more risqué answers in our cards. A few of mine even made my ears molten hot.

“Alright, I’ll go first,” Lowell volunteered. He grabbed a black card, then read it aloud, “‘You can’t start your morning without BLANK’. Hmmm…”

Everyone present shuffled through their decks and either giggled or fought it down. A few mammals tried to be straight-faced and methodical. Others simply slammed their white cards down onto the pile for Lowell to look at. Then, eventually choose from.

“Okay. ‘You cannot start your morning without,” he trailed off, reading the first pick. “‘A good dicking.’”

I guffawed. So did my parents and a few others. Abigail hid her muzzle alongside Nancy and Jordan. However, Lowell wasn’t deterred and continued.

“‘You cannot start your morning without…taking at least one good shit.’” A few giggled, and Lowell smirked. “Yadadada, ‘a naked jog’, hehe. ‘Pretending to care’, oh, that hits a bit home. ‘Embarrassing yourself’. ‘Sycophantic insanity’. ‘Drinking responsibly’. ‘Rationing’. Oh! ‘You cannot start your morning without a sweaty, drug-fueled orgy’. Heh, if only Adam were open to the idea…Ow!” The wolf flashed me an eye roll. “Joking! Anyway. ‘Frolicking in the woods’ and then,” Lowell tried to hold back snickering as he said, “‘You can’t start your morning without second base.’ Tough call, but I choose…a good dicking.”

“Yes!” Olivia punched a fist in the air, the otter happily taking the black card as a prize.

“My turn,” Johanna announced, the doe smirking as she drew a black card and read it aloud. “‘I stopped believing in BLANK when I discovered BLANK’.”

Everyone patiently went through their cards before handing them to our cell leader, who struggled not to laugh while reading most of them aloud. Some were benign like ‘paying taxes’ with ‘boats’. Others were juvenile like ‘God’ with ‘the homosexual agenda’. Then, there were masterful combinations, like from Jeannie. The tigress somehow got two cards that read ‘abstinence’ and ‘a twelve-inch elephant dick’. Obviously, Johanna couldn’t resist giving her the win.

Olivia went next. “Huh. ‘The party’s almost ready. All that’s missing is BLANK’,” she read, then glanced up at everyone present. “I can think of a few great entries off the top of my head.”

In the end, what won it for my parents was when my mother submitted a card that read ‘arsenic in the punch bowl’. That had us all roaring with laughter, especially me and Dad, who actually started to cry. Neither of us knew that Elizabeth Grimwald herself could excel at gallows humor.

“We are definitely going to Hell for this,” Mom muttered to herself, but couldn’t stop grinning. “We are going to Hell for these cards.”

“Well, here we are in Canada!” Lowell proclaimed.

“Low!” I lightly smacked his arm. We both cackled nevertheless as the next player had their turn.

Oscar read, “‘What are my parents hiding from me?’.”

My mother guessed ‘Queen Diana’, and Dad went for ‘severe sanctions’. Johanna handed in ‘the Kama Sutra’. Olivia sent in ‘the liberals’, Lucius sent in ‘your meds’. On and on, the answers gradually bounced from confusing to downright offensive. However, it was Abigail who cinched a win by having a white card reading ‘German dungeon porn’.

“Never knew you were kinky, Abigail,” Lowell joked with the older rabbit.

“Great card, Abby,” I agreed.

“You boys think I’m a prude,” she giggled, “but don’t think I’ve not had fun with crude games before.”

“Duly noted,” we replied together.

***

The game of Cards Against Decency went on for much longer than anybody expected. Everyone got the chance to fill in the blank sections of a black card and everyone got to choose which ones fit together. No matter how much a few of us tried to be logical about some combinations, it felt much more fun to be outlandish. ‘Go big or go home’, and the like.

The hotel staff on duty didn’t mind our fun. In fact, due to it being Christmas Day and everyone either off-duty to spend time with loved ones or trying to make their shifts go by faster, some would listen to our game. They’d roar laugh or stutter out chuckling whenever one of the card combos became incredibly raunchy, with even Michael the panther chiming in to suggest which should be the winners. Then, he’d go do a task and return minutes later to listen alongside the receptionist. At some point, even Mr. and Mrs. Langes enjoyed watching us as soon as they returned from whatever church activity they’d been partaking in.

As much as I smiled and laughed with everyone during each round, a small part of me felt sad. I imagined Hector or Blu’s own cell enjoying this Christmas with us. I imagined the fennec fox making jokes about Lowell’s sex drive, then my wolf boyfriend making a snide remark about him being a Catholic. Everyone would shrug it off. I’d apologize in Lowell’s stead. Hector would wave my apology away, snark about my choice in relationships, then I’d laugh as Lowell gave the Mexican canine a middle finger. He’d love playing the game too.

“You okay, Adam?” Lowell asked at some point during a break.

Back in the present, I shook my whiskered nose, smiling softly at him.

“I’m good,” I replied. “Just…I’m having so much fun.”

Lowell must have read my mind, or my expression. “I miss him too, and I think he’d enjoy it too,” he cryptically mentioned. His tail wagged against my seat in mournful nostalgia. “Merry Christmas, Adam.”

I trilled, purring as I responded, “Merry Christmas, Low.”

The levity of playing not just the Western Republic card game, but being with him, my parents, and our newfound family—I wouldn’t trade it for world peace. As everyone returned to the table, gradually exiting from the bathroom or stretching their legs, I started to wonder about the future. Of what? Of everything. Our asylum in Canada. The future of Devout America. The war. How it would end at one point or another. Could the Western Republic one day unify America again? Would we spend at least one Christmas in our lifetimes free, back home?

It became my turn. I drew a black card and read it aloud to everyone, mentally pushing all of my worries into the background. The past and future were distant countries. For the moment, I planned to enjoy the present.