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Jacob's head hurt.

Like, really hurt. Scalding water trapped inside his skull would have felt better. Worse, he couldn't move his hands to rub at it. The evening chill had numbed near everything, stripping his skin of feeling.

Well, most of his skin—clearly not his head, the one place it might have helped.

Fear welled as he lay on the ground, shivering, reflecting on the poor series of choices that led him to a late afternoon stroll through the woods. He tried to push himself to his feet, but he couldn't locate his fingers relative to his sprawled body. But he dared not open his eyes to search for his missing parts; what if everything had been burnt black from frostbite?

“Are you okay?" a playful voice asked him. A nearby bird let out a grating croak, almost drowning out their words.

Jacob spat back, “Do I look okay?"

“Not really. You've been groaning and rolling on the ice for quite a while."

“Then why even ask?"

“It's always better to be safe than sorry!"

How long had Jacob been out cold in the cold? He tried to collect his thoughts, but the throbbing in his skull refused clarity and demanded anger. “Stop being a prick and help me up."

“Oh…okay! Give me your hand."

Jacob raised his arm. Something warm and fluffy—the fuzzy sleeve of a coat, perhaps—brushed over his wrist. The pleasantness lasted only a moment, for the stranger's hand then clutched Jacob's forearm in a bone-crunching grip. It yanked him from the ground with enough force for pain to break through his numbness.

“Ow, ow, ow!" Jacob jerked his hand free, eyes still clenched. “You could have torn my arm off! What the hell are you doing?"

“Helping you up!" So jovial the stranger's voice, it bordered on mocking.

Jacob groaned and swung his arm. At least this fresh pain distracted from his aching head.

“Ice is slippery, you know?"

But that irritably cheery voice—along with a bird that didn't know when to shut up—only added to his agony.

“You should try digging your hooves in next time," the stranger said. “It helps with traction!"

“You're a right laugh, aren't you? I'll be sure to wear my hooves next time." Jacob spread his hair, turning to show the stranger the back of his head. “Is it bleeding back there?"

“Yep!"

“Great. And could you be a little less excited about that?"

“Yep…"

Jacob spun round, forcing his eyes to be as sharp as icicles. “Is this a joke to you? I could have…"

He lost his voice.

“Could have what?" it asked.

Jacob swallowed. “Died…"

The thing towering over him wasn't human. Clothed in nothing but grey fur and a heavy mane, its torso bulged from underneath its fluff in unnatural proportions, as if trying and failing to conceal some otherworldly power. Instead of a head, a bleached skull sat beneath a pair of horns masquerading as tree branches, intricately curved, hauntingly elegant. A speck of yellow shimmered within the black void of each eye socket.

It tilted its head, those yellow orbs tracking Jacob's face. “Is something wrong?" Its voice carried innocence and blithe, a bewildering contrast to its physical appearance.

“Yeah, you're…" Again, Jacob swallowed; he had to watch his words. “You're…really tall?"

“Oh, sorry." It squatted, spindly legs folding at three points, skull lowering to Jacob's eye level. “This better?"

Another look at its ethereal appearance tensed Jacob's chest. It was a creature of contradictions: gentle voice, jagged claws, whimsical eyes, and a fleshless skull for a head. Was this thing living or dead?

He couldn't look away. And neither could the creature. It seemed friendly. Sprightly to an aggravating degree, but friendly.

He hoped.

Jacob flinched as it moved, resting fluffy arms on bony knees. Its yellow eyes flashed. “You're a human, right?"

“Yeah…I guess I am."

“That's neat. I don't see many humans around here. Those I do always run and scream like dying rabbits. It frightens poor Chirpy, so it's good you're not as loud."

“Chirpy? Is that your name?"

“Of course not! Chirpy's my son." It pointed high on its left horn. What Jacob first saw as pointy, twig-like offshoots were—in actuality—actual twigs. A bunch of them curled together to form a small nest, balanced atop a thin strip of horn.

Jacob squinted and leaned closer. “Your son's a stick?"

“Chirpy's not a stick! He's just shy around strangers. Come on out, Chirpy, it's okay."

The creature whistled—or mimicked the sound, given its distinct lack of lips. The nest wiggled, and a baby bird popped its head out, its feathers as dark as the monster's eye sockets, its beak tip glistening in gold. It made a shrill, gurgling croak as it looked at Jacob, then back at the monster.

“Chirpy's a…crow?"

“A raven, actually." The creature reached up to the nest, rubbing the underside of its claw over the bird's head. “This poor baby fell out of his home, so I made him a new one."

Jacob exhaled; a creature kind enough to care for a bird couldn't pose a danger, surely. “But…why name it Chirpy?"

“Chirpy's a bird, and birds chirp." The yellow of its eyes brightened. “It's good, right? I spent days thinking it up."

That horrible croaking was anything but a chirp—a sixty-year-old smoker taken a feathered form, perhaps. But Jacob hadn't the heart nor the courage to shatter the creature's excitement.

“I love it," he said. “Great choice."

“You hear that, Chirpy? He loves daddy's name for you." As its skull clattered open and shut, the creature pointed to a pair of eggs on opposite sides of Chirpy. “His siblings are in there with him, just waiting to hatch. I took them too because I don't want Chirpy to get lonely. The one on the left will be Tweety, and the one on the right, Jake."

Jacob's headache only got worse the longer this creature talked and its bird squawked. Pink matter would soon leak from his ears. Tonight was going to be one of those nights, wasn't it?

No.

A blast of freezing air across his cold-snapped body told him to expect much worse. He clasped his hands together. The trees stirred in a violent shudder, the wind howling, slicing through the dense forest, beating his body without end.

Frostbite seemed a more pressing concern—even compared to this abnormal creature and its noisy, non-chirping bird. Though, given its warm demeanour, it might care enough to help.

“Look," said Jacob, “I think I took a nasty fall back there, and now I'm cold and lost. Is there any place to escape the snow?"

The creature held up its arm. A falling snowflake landed on its palm, quickly dissolving into its fur. “They're pretty hard to avoid," it said, “but maybe you could try hiding from them under a big tree?"

“I was hoping for somewhere indoors," Jacob said, restraining the urge to shout. “Preferably out of the cold."

“Oh…why didn't you say so?" The beast jerked itself back to full height, the motion swift enough to startle Jacob. “There's a hunter's lodge nearby. Was pretty lively for the first few months when I migrated here, but they don't seem to use it anymore."

Jacob hummed. “I wonder why. Can you take me there?"

“Yep! Let me just check where it is." It twirled and squatted, this time much lower to the ground, and brushed its clawed fingers through the snow as though searching for something buried beneath.

“What are you doing?" Jacob asked.

“Trying to find the cabin."

“By touching the ground?"

“Yep!" It tilted its skull, its yellow eye gleaming at Jacob from over its shoulder. “I can sense paths walked by all, critter and human alike."

A strange skill—one that seemed entirely impossible. The heavy snowfall hid all tracks, yet it could find paths taken by humans from months back?

Jacob squatted behind the creature and ran his hands through the snow, trying to replicate whatever it was doing. He couldn't detect a thing. He couldn't feel a thing; his numb hands no longer reacted to the cold.

“So how does this trick of yours work?" Jacob asked.

“Blood magic."

“Blood…what?" Jacob glanced up, only to gasp and tumble backwards into the snow.

The creature's unearthly appearance had distracted Jacob from its lack of clothing. But rather difficult to ignore was the toned butt mere inches from his face. Now on his back in the snow, the monster's asshole loomed down at him, the grey fur fading to soft pink at its tight pucker, tucked beneath its fluffy tail. Said tail—a small puff like that of a deer—playfully flicked about. Beefy thighs trembled, straining to hold the creature's squat.

Jacob pried his eyes away from that inviting hole, only to gasp again as his eyes fell upon its—his—ponderous testes. A layer of fuzz covered his sac, but the defined crease separating its two weighty occupants left little to the imagination. They hung low and swung heavy, inches above the snow, each the size of Jacob's fist.

Unaware of Jacob's dumbstruck gaze, the creature hummed as he continued to stroke the ground. He swayed with motions of his hand, rocking the dangling pair beneath his rump, a teasing seesaw that brought heat to Jacob's cold face.

“Alright, I think I've found it," the monster said as he looked over his shoulder. His yellow eyes flashed, dropping low to lock onto Jacob. “How did you fall down again!? Humans are so clumsy. Do you need another hand?"

“N-no, I'm fine." Jacob didn't want a repeat of having his arm torn off.

“Are you sure? You look dazed."

Jacob snapped his mouth shut and rocked his head. “I'm fine, really. It's just, I wasn't expecting you to be so…male."

“What? Oh, these?" The creature reached between his thighs, cupped the pair with his palm, and lifted his sac. The scrotum puffed out as it neared his winking hole. He gave his orbs a parting squeeze before letting them fall. They swung low. The very bottoms tapped the snow before bouncing back and plapping the underside of his ass.

While they teetered back and forth, unable to lose their momentum, the creature said, “Yeah, they're my breeders. I guess they do make me male."

“And you just…let them hang out in the open? Aren't they cold?"

“Do they look cold?"

Unless the cold made this creature's balls swell, then no; they looked pretty hot to Jacob.

“Humans are always fascinated by the strangest things." He shook his rump, shaking the pair anew. “If they're not running and screaming, they're doing weird stuff like carving hearts onto trees, or slipping on the ice, or performing gender assessments. They do the same thing with birds, though I wish they'd do one for Chirpy. I'm only guessing he's a boy—he's got a deep voice, you know?"

Heat returned to Jacob's face. The uneasy kind. The kind that made him chuckle nervously. Taunted by the sway of those so-called breeders and stunned beneath a curious yellow gaze, Jacob needed something to break the awkwardness—the metaphorical ice—and he needed it quick.

So he said the first thing that came to mind. About the first thing that drew his eyes.

“You've got a really hot ass."

Jacob slapped his hands over his mouth.

“I do?" The creature reached back to grope both cheeks, his tail wagging, excited by the contact. Both mounds wobbled as claws creased their otherwise smooth firmness, thin trails indenting the grey fur. He spread them apart, showing off and stretching his tight pink pucker, then let his cheeks slap back together, their impact sending ripples across his rump and thighs.

“I guess it is a bit warm," he said, innocently enough, unaware of how much of a fucking tease he was being.

“No, hot as in… Actually, sure, let's go with that." It was easier for Jacob than trying to explain why the sight made his cock hard.

“Anyway, why are you still lying in the snow? I thought you wanted to escape it." The creature shot back up, lurching his sac and ass far from Jacob's reach. Chirpy squawked, nearly falling out of his nest—only to squawk again when the creature took off, dashing between a pair of trees. “Follow me! The lodge isn't far!"

Jacob stumbled to his feet and chased after him. “Wait up!" He'd have time to deal with his lust later.

When he wasn't freezing to death.

---

The creature bounded under branches and squeezed between trees with a nimbleness unbecoming of his imposing form. He constantly glanced over his shoulder, stopping when Jacob fell behind, before leaping away the moment he closed the distance—only to stop again seconds later.

“Almost there!" He skidded to a halt—kicking up snow—as Jacob navigated a zigzagging row of trees, crammed tight like traffic cones in a canine obstacle course. Jacob lacked the agility of a well-trained canine; he snagged his hood on a wayward branch, tearing the seams.

He tugged it free, grumbling. “Did we really have to break from the trail to get there?"

“You said you wanted to avoid the snow, so I took a detour through the densest patch of woodland I know. There's more cover for you!"

“I didn't mean it in a literal—"

“Wait!" The creature lurched towards the ground, curling his back and arching his shoulders.

Jacob stepped closer. “What is it?"

“Shh!" He hunched lower and stretched out his unnaturally long arms. He tensed his fingers. Reared his claws.

Jacob shivered; the beast looked ready to attack. But what? Had that supernatural power of his detected some threat beyond Jacob's five senses?

The creature squatted lower, twisting his back at odd angles. His skull head stayed straight, not pointing where he leaned. Chirpy leaned out of his perfectly balanced nest and gave a hoarse croak.

“Shh…"

The hush brought the bird to an eerie silence. Jacob held his breath. Even the rustling trees went still. The monster's arms trembled, the rest of him frozen. Did Jacob need to stay completely still?

His attempt to do so ended rather quick; he jumped as the creature thrust his arms into the snow, a blur of grey. Snow shot into the air, Chirpy flapped in a squawking panic, and through the woods thundered a piercing squeal. Jacob covered his ears as the beast straightened up, lifting from the cover of snow two brown rabbits gripped by their scruffs, flailing and shrieking.

He raised them to his skull. “Should have hidden your burrow better, little rabbits." The creature looked between the two helpless things, his voice ominously jolly. “You know what happens now, don't you?"

The squealing grew frenzied. Jacob's legs wobbled.

“Better luck in your next life." His skull snapped open. A prehensile tongue slithered out, an otherworldly purple winding around the critter's neck and torso.

Jacob's stomach churned. “What are you—"

Into the void between his jaws, the beast shoved the rabbit head-first. Its little legs thrashed at the lower jaw, but another push bent them back until they kicked at the air helplessly. The monster let go of the rabbit's scruff, his tongue coiling lower, tightening around the poor thing's haunches, and with a wet slurp, the critter sank into the blackness, its twitching tail the last to disappear. The monster's jaws clacked shut, and a noisy gulp signalled the rabbit's fate.

Jacob stared silently, watching a squirming bulge form in the creature's furry neck, subtle beneath his mane. His fur stretched downwards, the poor critter sinking lower and lower, a thrashing lump dissolving into his hulking chest. The monster's tongue slid out of his skull, smacking around each edge and curve, then lapping his fingers one by one. All while his slim belly wobbled, the slightest of dents distending the fluffy hide.

Jacob finally blinked. “What the fuck?"

“Brown rabbits are so much plumper than the grey ones. Never let a brown one go to waste, that's what I always say." The creature held out the remaining rabbit—still thrashing—eyes bulging. “Here's yours."

The wiggling in the beast's lower hide made Jacob ill, but he couldn't look away, not even as bile seared his throat. “I'm…not that hungry."

“You can't just eat one! How's that fair to this guy?" The monster jabbed his gut with his elbow, coaxing a frantic fit. The poor thing's struggles sent ripples through his fur.

“Is nature ever fair?" Jacob asked, hoping the creature would treat it as a rhetorical.

He did not.

“I can make it fair." The monster lifted the second rabbit to his skull. Its squeals drowned out the wind, the creaking of trees, even Chirpy's squawks. “Time to join your boyfriend, little rabbit."

Jacob found the strength to look away. The shrieks went muffled, sparing his ears from that garbled cacophony—but not from the ravenous slurps and gulps that filled its place.

One loud swallow oozed out. The forest went silent once more.

The creature sighed. Jacob turned back in time to witness him patting his enlarged belly, still wiggling away. “That hit the spot," he said, cheery as ever. “Ready to keep going?"

Even Chirpy seemed nonchalant about this affront to nature; with the rabbits silenced, the raven quietly retired into the embrace of his nest. Jacob sensed a not-so-subtle species bias at play—savour of avians, scourge of lagomorphs.

“Don't tell me you've changed your mind."

“Huh?" Jacob flinched, tearing his eyes away from that now-chubby gut.

“No need to be shy about it. I knew you were hungry, so give me a moment and I'll spit one out."

“No, no-no-no!" Jacob raised his hands, stumbling backwards. “They're all yours, really! Let's…let's just keep going, okay?"

“Fine…" The creature sighed and reached into his nest, stroking the hidden bird. “Humans are so modest, aren't they, Chirpy? Not like you; you always tell daddy when you're hungry." He shook his skull, and a yellow orb of an eye flicked towards Jacob.

Did he just tsk?

“Come on then." The beast took off, flinging snow at Jacob's legs. “We're almost there."

Jacob crossed his fingers. Please, lord in heaven, conceal any rabbit burrows from here to there. Spare those poor critters—and my poor stomach.

---

“We're here! And as promised, with very little exposure to snow."

Jacob shuffled past the last row of trees. The wooden lodge was smaller than he expected. Its entrance sat on a veranda. Three steps, one half-buried in the snow, separated it from the forest floor. Icicles guarded the frost-covered entrance, dangling like fangs from a slanted awning. Whatever roof used to cover the lodge had transformed into a sloped field of snow, its overhanging edges dented like sheet metal, crushed beneath a month of snowfall.

The creature hopped up each step ahead of Jacob with surprising grace, ducking under the crooked awning and icicles. He gestured to the door. “Do you mind? My hands aren't good with these round things."

Jacob covered his head and crept under the icicles. He bent his stiff fingers enough to grip the doorknob. It wasn't locked, turning without resistance, though the door needed a hard shove to break the frost bound to its frame. Ice cracked, the door creaked, and wind whooshed through the widening gap, whirling around the lodge and flushing out the stale air within, the stench of old mothballs.

It would take a lot more than a foul smell and run-down lodge to dissuade Jacob from shelter. The howling wind dwindled as he shoved the door the rest of the way. Jacob stepped into the dark, only to freeze three steps from the door.

Where was the heat?

He touched the nearby sofa, but the dusty leather felt colder than his fingertips. He spun around just as the creature ducked through the tight doorway, his horn tips scraping through the wood frame.

Voice trembling, Jacob asked, “Why is it so cold in here?"

“Why wouldn't it be?" The monster's backmost horn caught the frame, but a neck-snapping jerk of his skull forced it unstuck. Poor Chirpy; birds weren't designed with such g-forces in mind.

“I don't understand," said Jacob. “Why would it be cold?"

“The forest is cold this late in the season."

“But why does that matter?" Jacob clenched his numb fingers, gripping the sofa cushion. “We're indoors—it should be warmer."

“Everything here that separates us from the forest is made of wood."

“But it's indoors. I thought…"

The creature tilted his skull. “You touched a few trees on the way over, right? They're all cold. Why would a wooden lodge be any different to her still-rooted siblings?"

Jacob spun around the living room. “There's got to be someplace to make a fire." Though furnished with thin rugs, cheap armchairs and unvarnished tables, the cabin's barren walls hid no alcoves, no possible fireplace.

“You'll burn the lodge down if you make a fire in here!" The creature closed the door, sparing Jacob from the outside gale. “Wood is flammable, you know? Or inflammable—whichever one's the bad one."

Jacob ignored him. He shuffled across the four walls, groping at the wood, hoping the dark concealed some saviour, hoping a set of planks would fold in to reveal a hidden compartment, hoping for anything.

And finding nothing.

He slammed his fist into the wall, barely feeling the impact. “I can't believe it—a winter lodge without a fireplace."

“What makes this a winter lodge?"

“It's used during the winter, for fuck's sake!"

Jacob flinched. His words echoed through the lifeless living room. There was something very wrong with that logic. He knew it.

And so did the creature. “Is it used during the winter? How can you tell?"

It would be quite easy to tell. The presence of people during the winter would be a good start. Failing that, the existence of a fireplace might be proof enough. But the absence of people, and the absence of a fireplace…

“Shit." Jacob laughed. It started as a soft chuckle, livening to a wheeze as he reflected on his own stupidity, ending with a weary sigh. He stumbled around to smile at the bewildered creature.

“I'm going to freeze to death."

This time, the monster was the one to recoil. His yellow eyes trembled, darting away from Jacob's face. “That's…bad, isn't it?"

“Yes," said Jacob. “It's very bad."

---

“Aren't you going to take a seat?" Jacob gestured his head towards the open armchair. “Squatting for that long can't be easy."

“For me, sitting feels unnatural." The creature spread his stance over the rug as if to prove squatting wasn't all that difficult. “Besides, I'm better at sensing the forest's secrets with less of me in contact with the ground. Don't ask why—it just works."

“You're a strange creature, you know that?"

“And you're a strange human." His eyes flicked towards Jacob's lap. “Why do you sit on your hands? That's stranger than anything I've ever done."

Jacob coughed; one obvious counterpoint came to mind, but he'd rather not think back to it. He instead offered the simplest explanation. “It's the best I can do to keep them warm."

And that was true. The slightest bit of feeling had returned to his fingers. It meant little for the rest of his body, however; he trembled without end, and each shaky breath spewed condensation from his chapped lips, clouding his vision.

“Can't you just sit on your other parts?" the creature asked. “That sounds like an easy way to warm up."

Jacob chuckled. “I'm not that flexible. Nowhere close to your level."

The creature groaned, sounding dissatisfied with that answer.

“I probably should have asked this earlier," said Jacob, “but what are you?"

“Oh?" He straightened his back, his fluffy tail wagging. “Given you didn't run, I thought you knew. That makes you the bravest human I've met."

“I'm not brave. Just stupid."

“If being stupid makes humans stop screaming, I wouldn't mind meeting more stupid humans." His eyes brightened, colouring his skull yellow. They were the only light within the lodge. “I'm a wendigo."

“Cool."

“No, a wendigo."

“Right. And I'm a human, as you know. Name's Jacob. What's yours?"

“I don't have a name."

“How can you not have a name?"

The creature looked away. “A name is something that's gifted to you, not chosen. I've been alone for as long as I can remember. I don't even recall how I came into being."

“Oh."

Jacob didn't know how else to respond.

The wendigo spoke as if unbothered by that sad fact. Perhaps their kind expected a life of loneliness, though Jacob was certain this one had some desire for companionship; how he had approached, his friendly demeanour, even his care for Chirpy and co—he yearned for interaction, however small.

“I've got an idea!" The wendigo jumped out of his squat back to full height, scaring a croak from Chirpy. “Why don't you name me?"

“Name you?" Jacob almost jumped himself. “You want me to do it?"

“Why not? There's no one else around—other than Chirpy, but he's terrible with names."

Chirpy squawked and pecked at the nearest horn, objecting to the slander of his good name.

“See? I've told him hundreds of times I don't like that one, but he keeps suggesting it."

“But…naming you? That's a hell of a responsibility. Wouldn't you rather choose your name, or better yet, wait for someone more important than me to choose it?"

“You can't choose your own name! And it's fine, really!" The wendigo's voice conveyed high-pitched excitement. “If I don't like the name you pick, I can just find another namer."

So much for treating it as a gift. Still, the prospect of repicking a name removed a lot of stress from the task. Based on the names the wendigo had chosen for his feathered friends, he had a favourite naming convention, one that Jacob could easily replicate.

He scanned the wendigo's appearance, searching for inspiration, starting at his belly—and immediately looked away; best he not focus on that part. He averted his gaze higher, towards his grey mane. Fluffy? No, that's rather uninspired, the sort of thing a toddler would come up with. He looked higher, to his skull, to his cheekbones gleaming in yellow. Bony? That might come across as an insult to his appearance. What about even higher, something to do with his extravagant, tree-like horns?

Horny?

Absolutely not.

“It's okay if you can't think of anything. It was a silly idea, anyway." The wendigo lowered his head. “I've gone this long without a name. What's a little longer?"

Crestfallen. All because Jacob hesitated. Stomach curdling, guilt simmering, he panicked and blurted out the first real name that came to mind.

“Jake."

“Jake?" The wendigo looked up. “But that's the name for Chirpy's sibling."

“I know, and it's a lovely name, one that provides a lasting connection between the two of you. Besides, you can just call him Jake Junior."

“Jake…and Jake Junior…" The wendigo squatted and tapped his claws over his chin. He mumbled to himself, quiet enough that it sounded like brooding.

“I'm sorry," said Jacob. “I'm not that good at names, so I just—"

“That's a great idea."

“—yeah, I wasn't thinking, and…huh?"

“I picked Jake for Chirpy's sibling because it's the perfect name. Short, simple, catchy, with that kick of a sound right at the end." The wendigo's eyes twinkled. “You knew that as well, didn't you? That's why you suggested it."

“Um…yes?"

“Humans are so clever." He swayed in place, rocking his head from shoulder to shoulder. “I've always wanted to be a Jake—and now I am. Thanks to you."

“You're…very welcome, Jake."

“Yes! It sounds so good!" The wendigo—Jake—jumped up, his limbs trembling as he pranced about the living room, whispering the name over and over to himself.

At least Jacob had made someone's night. He could feel proud about that—if he somehow survived until dawn.

His teeth chattered, and bitter cold nipped the skin beneath his clothes. His hands were going numb again—this time, from lack of blood flow. He wiggled them out from under his butt and waved them through the air, trying to coax back some feeling, before stuffing them into his pockets.

It would have to do. What other source of heating did he have?

Jacob rolled onto his back, resting his head on the sofa's arm, his hair doing little to fend off the leather's icy bite. The fabric reminded him of frozen snow, cold and packed hard. Some thought rattled around his head, a vague recollection about the danger of sleeping while on the verge of hypothermia.

If only he had enough energy to care.

The wendigo's hooves kept tip-tapping over the floorboards. His jolly sproinking would have been cute if circumstances weren't as dire. Jacob clenched his eyes. The wendigo's clanking droned on, zigzagging around the cramped living room, running circles around the sofa, repeating Jake over and over. At least Chirpy knew when to shut up.

The stomps grew louder, closer…and stopped. That blissful moment of silence would have been divine—had it lasted for more than a moment.

“Why are you shivering?" asked Jake.

A question that stupid didn't deserve a response, but Jacob gave it one. “I'm cold," he said coldly.

“Oh…that freezing-to-death thing."

“Yeah. That small little thing."

Jake hummed, sounding lost in thought. To a thick-furred creature inhabiting a forest of equally fluffy critters, the fact a living creature could be susceptible to freezing temperatures might have never crossed his mind.

The humming stopped with a sharp click of his tongue. “I've got another idea."

Jacob didn't open his eyes. “Do you know how to fashion your fur into a coat? I didn't bring my shears, though."

“I don't, but I have something much warmer than fur." He trotted closer, his steps approaching the sofa's edge. “You even told me how hot you found it. Maybe it's hot enough to be your heater."

“What are you talking about? What's hot enough?"

The wendigo didn't respond. The clanking of hooves stopped.

Jacob opened his eyes. A fluffy nub of a tail wiggled back and forth, almost distracting from the two plump ass cheeks right beneath. The wendigo's claws draped over the crease, dishevelling grey fur, stretching them apart to reveal the tight pink of his entrance. Before Jacob could comprehend the absurdity taking place, with a meaty plop, those cheeks slammed onto his face.

He gasped from the impact, inhaling crisp pine from the monster's nethers. Luscious fur blanketed his cheeks and stroked his neck. Condensation formed on his forehead as heat enveloped his freezing face.

Jacob was too aghast to say anything. Too aghast, until the wendigo twisted his hips, grinding Jacob's head deeper into the sofa, and his fluffy ass deeper onto Jacob.

“You can sit on your own hands," he said with a cheery warmth rivalling that from his hole, “but you're not flexible enough to sit on your own face. So just give me a moment—I'm gonna get comfy."

That comment snapped Jacob from his stupor. He thrashed and swung his arms, striking the fat ass bearing down on him. Those squirms did little more than jostle the hide, and when he opened his mouth to mumble a protest, he gagged as fur met his tongue.

“Stop wiggling so much! It tickles!"

The heft enveloping his face grew heavier, and Jacob squirmed with renewed ferocity, groping and pinching and shoving those fluffy cheeks, doing everything to make the wendigo relent. Jake's tail just became more energetic, batting at Jacob's hands as though trying to flick them away.

“On second thought, keep wiggling." Jake sighed and leaned further back. “It feels really nice."

Jacob hadn't planned on stopping. But despite his best efforts, that fur concealed unnatural strength, firmness that his numb hands could do naught but grope.

“You know, I've never roosted on someone before. I had the idea to try with Chirpy—to keep him safe—but he's just so small. I almost crushed him!"

Reliving that trauma, Chirpy squawked, louder than ever.

“I know, Chirpy, daddy promised he wouldn't try it again, but this human is so much bigger than you. I could probably stay roosted on him for the entire night."

No, Jacob was perfectly capable of being crushed. If only he could swap places with Chirpy. He shouted some garbled plea, but that only coaxed the wendigo's rim to twitch against his nose.

“It's fine, really!" Jake stroked his claws through Jacob's hair—the sliver that peeked from beneath his rump. “It's no hassle, especially if it keeps you from freezing. And besides, you're super comfy!"

The wendigo's weight pressing onto his chest, Jacob gasped for air. Instead of relief, each breath filled his nose with the fresh tones of the forest, sourced from a time far back from this brutal winter; morning dew after an evening of rain, honeysuckle in bloom, scorched wood after a raging wildfire. Despite their familiarity, their mingled concoction proved bewildering, utterly intoxicating. Jacob's head felt lighter, the throbbing from his earlier fall all but faded.

Was he suffocating?

Maybe. But his body no longer compelled him to resist. It wanted him to bask in that musk for as long as it could—for the rest of his life, even.

With thoughts no more coherent than a wanton desire for more, Jacob took a deep breath and let his tongue roll over the rump atop his face. Those scents had a taste. And though he had never tasted morning dew nor flame-scorched wood, he knew of their taste, an intrinsic memory from some former life, rich and sweet and soothing.

Needing more, he licked again, circling where the scents were strongest. Craving more, his tongue nudged into the musky pit. Encouraging that eagerness, the wendigo squeaked, his body shuddering atop Jacob's.

“W-what are you doing?"

Jacob's tongue was too occupied to answer. Even if he could, he didn't know how to answer. He was just doing what felt right. Jacob prodded, and a sharp yelp of encouragement—muffled, but not enough to escape his ears—coaxed him to explore deeper.

“That feels…really good. Keep going."

Jacob's whole body tingled with heat as he lapped and slurped. The wendigo responded to every motion of his tongue, a gasp for each zealous twist, a gurgling groan for every gentle stroke. After a particularly forceful thrust, a jolt rocked through the monster's form, and he at last stuttered an objection.

“W-wait! Chirpy's too young to see this!"

Jacob stopped his licks. Even beneath the monster's meaty ass, Jake's flustered voice carried through, speaking softly to Chirpy. “I'm gonna put your nest behind the sofa. Don't worry, daddy will still be here, just…no peeking until we're done. I'll read to you another night, okay?"

Jacob doubted a sofa would protect Chirpy's innocence; Jake's eager moans were as indecent as the act itself.

“Alright, Chirpy's tucked away. So…keep going? Please?"

Jacob obliged, lapping and licking while the wendigo rocked in place, never once raising his rump, the soft springs creaking in time with his shuffling. Jake's groans—now bordering on growls—soon drowned those springs out. His eager rumble trembled through the sofa, leaving Jacob dazed, kneading his sweat-slick face.

Beneath the rump, musk held Jacob in its influence. His whole body brimmed with a burning heat and an aching need. His cock firmed against his underwear, throbbing within the cramped pocket, begging to be let free. He reached for his pants' button, but stopped when Jake spoke.

“I'm gonna…take care of something. Keep going, don't mind me!"

Jacob had a good guess as to what that something was. The repetitive patter of hand against hide, sounding seconds later, confirmed it. Jacob's lust could wait; he couldn't miss a chance to play with the wendigo's junk. He groped his hand along Jake's fluffy thigh, his fingers meeting the heavy sac, parting from them with a squeeze, before grasping the monster's hot cock. Jacob rolled his thumb around the sticky tip.

“Y-you want to stroke with me?"

Jacob mumbled a confirmation.

“I guess it could warm your hands up… Okay, how this works, I usually grab it with both hands."

Jacob hardly needed an explanation, though he followed along to humour the flustered wendigo. He gripped both sides of the shaft. Warmth flooded down his fingers. Jake's fluffy hands squeezed around on top of his, shielding them from the cold.

“Good. Next…we stroke it. Together! Does that make sense?"

The ass muted Jacob's scoff, but his grumbling affirmation came through loud and clear.

“Okay, good, this is going great. Now…I guess we start, don't we? Do you want to set the pace?"

Patience having reached its limit, Jacob pumped his hands down Jake's cock. His wrists smacked against his sheath, coaxing both a satisfying plap and a sharp gasp from its owner. The wendigo's hands gripped tighter around Jacob's, and the pair stroked back up to the stickier tip. Jake quivered with every back-and-forth motion, his fluffy butt rubbing Jacob's face.

Those quivers intensified when Jacob returned his tongue to the monster's spit-soaked hole, tremors caressing his form. He wasted little time, swirling his tongue around Jake's rim only once before thrusting into its depths. The wendigo squeaked. His thighs clapped together, squeezing around his cock and their still-gripped hands. As he separated his legs to allow their strokes to continue, another forceful plunge of Jacob's tongue brought them smacking back together.

With a half-broken whimper, Jake said, “T-too much—but don't stop!"

Jacob wasn't planning to. Between Jake's thighs, his hands pumped, and beneath Jake's rump, his tongue thrust. Deeper and deeper. The wendigo let out an adorable gasp. His thighs tensed, and his claws clenched around Jacob's fingers. His rump wiggled, his cock twitched, and a sticky dribble streaked down its underside, glazing Jacob's hands in warmth.

Jacob twisted his grip around the length of Jake's manhood, and a fluttery growl broke into a high-pitched yip. “I-I'm so close!"

Jake's hole spasmed, pulsing and clenching, tightening around Jacob's relentless tongue. His tuft of a tail swung with startling strength, loudly whapping the back of Jacob's head—the only part peeking from beneath the wendigo's face-enveloping ass cheeks.

Despite being blind to the act, Jacob's entire body was aflush with lust. His manhood had flicked out his underwear, tenting his all-too-tight pants. The wendigo, now snarling, rocked his body in rhythm with their strokes, the force lurching the sofa, its legs grinding over the floorboards. Jake seemed to say something, but those eldritch growls held no meaning to Jacob.

He soon reached an ear-splitting crescendo. His cock swelled and throbbed while his entire body writhed atop Jacob's face. Upon hearing some distant splatter, Jacob rolled one hand down to fondle the monster's sac. Those heavy jewels shuddered in his grip, jolting in tempo with the pulsing of their owner's cock. Jake's noises oscillated, became garbled, breathless, utterly inhuman.

His orgasm lasted for quite a time. Jacob thrust and swirled his tongue all throughout the wendigo's depths, hoping to prolong it—just a little longer. Despite his efforts, Jake's sac had only so much to give, growing lighter in Jacob's grasp as its throbbing ebbed. His cock eventually fell still, ending its flow with a spurting dribble that streaked Jacob's hands in sticky heat.

Jake wheezed, his throat croaking. But after several breaths and a sated sigh, it softened back to its jubilant, whimsical self. “Oh dear…I should probably clean that door later." He poked the small portion of Jacob's head that peeked from under his ass. “You still good under there? Comfy and warm, right? I think I'd make a great bird."

Jacob spread apart the cheeks, giving his mouth room to move. “Could you get off me now?" His voice was little more than a mumble.

“Is it too hot under there?"

The heat rivalled a sauna, an uncomfortable contrast with his exposed and shivering legs.

But that wasn't why Jacob needed the wendigo to get up. “I need to do something," he said. “Something important."

“Oh…can I do it for you? I don't want you getting cold again—or freezing to death."

“Not really." Jacob's arms shook, straining to keep those heavy cheeks off his mouth to speak. “It's just some…unfinished business."

Jake groaned as though sad to leave that comfy face behind. He lifted his rump. Jacob took a deep gasp of air, though he recoiled from the sudden sting of his sweaty face meeting the bitter chill. The pitch-black cabin wasn't all too different from the smothering blackness of a fat butt. Jake's eyes were the only disparity, gleaming like floating topazes, fending away the darkness.

Those eyes flashed as Jake said, “Your hair's all messy!"

“Oh, really?" said Jacob. “I wonder what caused that."

“Probably me sitting on you." As always, Jake said it with complete sincerity. Bless his heart; he was too adorable for his own good.

As he would soon find out.

The wendigo lowered himself to a squat on the sofa cushion, his hooves digging into the leather. “Anyway, what do you need to do? Can I help?"

“You can, actually." Bracing on the sofa's backrest, Jacob staggered onto his knees. “I need to finish so fucking bad."

“Oh…do you want me to stroke you?"

Jacob replied with both hands—shoving the squatting wendigo. Jake stumbled onto his knees, his chest landing on the sofa's edge.

“H-hey, what was that for?" Jake's glowing eyes flickered at Jacob from over his shoulder.

Jacob paid those eyes no heed. His eyes focused on two things and two things alone—that adorable nub of a tail, and the juicy ass tucked beneath. He unbuttoned his pants and crawled towards that meaty rump, tugged the wiggling tail—enjoyed a surprised yelp from the wendigo—and fondled those two fluffy cheeks.

“So…" said Jake, sounding nervous, “is that a no to the stroking?"

Jacob answered with a firm grope of each cheek, spreading them apart. His cock throbbed at the sight of the wendigo's tight, glistening hole, already lubed with his spit. He ran his thumb around the soaked rim, watching it twitch and shudder, tightening as he put pressure on the entrance.

Jacob pulled his thumb back, ending the fondling session with a hard smack against the monster's right cheek. A yelp. He chuckled and said, “You can't expect to tease these entire night and get away with it."

“Um…are you planning to do something to my butt?" Jake's voice and tail trembled.

“Isn't it obvious?" Jacob squeezed his thumbs on opposite sides of the wendigo's hole and stretched apart the inviting entrance, the moist pink within steaming on contact with the outside chill. “I'm going to fuck it."

“B-but that's your heater!"

“Not anymore." Jacob shuffled forward, squeezing his cock between the beast's cheeks, angling it against the quivering entrance, gripping that frantically wagging tail and tugging it up against the wendigo's back. He sneered at Jake's shimmering eyes. “It's a cock warmer now."

“It can do that as well!?"

“We're about to find out!" Jacob bucked forward. The wendigo's slick entrance spread around his member, heated folds guiding him, urging him to bottom out his thrust. Jacob's hips slammed against those soft cheeks, and velvety insides clamped down, hugging his cock in a needy embrace. Incredible warmth flowed through his body as he stayed hilted. He lowered his chest onto the wendigo's fluffy back. Beefy muscles, hidden just beneath the fur, trembled against his skin.

Jake huffed and glanced back over his shoulder, his tongue dangling against the side of his skull. “That's…much bigger than your tongue."

“How's it feel?" Jacob pulled back until the monster's rim rolled over the crown of his cock, then slammed his entire length back in with double the force.

Jake gasped, his body jolting forward, his snout bumping the sofa's edge. “G-good…really good."

Jacob glided his hands over the wendigo's shoulder, hugging his neck. “Want more?"

“Yes!"

“Say please."

“Pl-please?" Jake's wiggling tail tickled Jacob's belly.

“Good boy." Jacob patted the wendigo's forehead, fingers stroking across bony ridges. “Make sure you squeeze your butt nice and tight, alright?"

On cue, muscles gripped down like a vice, throbbing walls kneading Jacob's cock. “And make sure," Jake said, panting, “you make a big mess."

“I promise."

With Jake's embarrassed words egging him on, Jacob began his fucking in earnest, pounding with wild abandon. That fat ass cushioned his hips, the plump hide welcoming each slam with a satisfying smack. The wendigo met each thrust with a buck of his own and a quivering whimper.

Despite his bubbling need, Jacob was lucid enough to feel the wendigo's trembles intensify. Curious, he reached underneath the monster, stroked his belly, then gripped his cock. It was hard. Leaking. Throbbing much the same as earlier.

Feeling quite smug, Jacob said, “You want to cum again, don't you?"

“Please." Jake needn't have spoken; the spurt of precum from his cock answered.

“Then moan for me. Show me how bad you want it."

Jake started to stammer a reply, but those words garbled into a lustful moan, its pitch aquiver.

“Come on," said Jacob. “You can do better than that."

“B-but Chirpy will hear."

“Too bad." Jacob slapped the wendigo's cheek as he bottomed out. “He's already going to hear how much of a bitch you are."

Jake whimpered, but then he tucked in his head, hiding it under his chest, and let loose a moan that rivalled a roar. Chirpy squawked in return, no doubt frightened by the booming cry.

Pleased with the effort, Jacob pumped the wendigo's cock. “Good boy. Now spread your cheeks—make them nice and wide."

The monster reached back, one claw cleaving a long gash through the sofa's backrest. His slender fingers braced on opposite sides of Jacob's cock, pressed into his plump cheeks, and stretched them apart.

With the wendigo's hole well-presented, Jacob paused to enjoy the view. He straightened his back and watched his cock slide out of the beast's depths. The head flicked out with a wet squelch, and the rim spasmed in turn, clenching and flexing, desperate to be stuffed.

Jacob tugged that incessantly wagging tail. “Beg to be filled."

The monster let out a meek little whimper. “Please…please fill me."

Jacob bounced his cock against a cheek, angled his approach, but deliberately missed, grinding his cock up between the crease of the wendigo's cheeks, striking his twitching tail. “Where's your usual enthusiasm?"

Jake groaned, but then bellowed with need. “Mount me like a doe in heat! Fill me—claim me!"

Jacob squeezed his hands around the wendigo's horns. And thrust. His cock pried those clenched muscles apart, moist warmth swallowing his length. Jake squealed, gurgling by the time Jacob bottomed out, his hole rippling around the length, but he still had enough composure to keep his anal muscles tensed, those powerful folds proving to be the tightest, hottest hole Jacob had ever bred.

Jacob leaned in and bit the wendigo's scruff. “Beg for me to finish inside."

Jake mumbled something, barely audible.

“Say it again." Jacob's hips again met the wendigo's rump with a wet smack. “Nice and loud this time."

“I want every drop, please." Jake trembled, his cock dribbling between Jacob's fingers. “This is your butt—yours to fill."

“Good boy." Jacob gave another thrust, and the wendigo returned another yip. “And while we're at it, why don't you show just how flexible you are?" Jacob pushed the wendigo's horns, guiding his skull beneath his chest.

“H-how?"

“Get your head in front of your cock." Jacob sped up his pumping of the wendigo's shaft. “We'll coat that cute skull of yours in your own mess."

“Oh…okay." Jake wiggled, curling his upper body further beneath his chest. Scratching came from the leather, the monster's horns slicing through the seat cushion. “Should I open my mouth as well?"

The suggestion made Jacob grunt. He plunged his cock deep into the monster's tight nethers. “Fuck yes you should."

Jacob was so close. A deep growl building in Jake's chest meant he was the same. The wind outside picked up, and though four walls shielded their bodies from the angry gale, it still joined the cacophony within the cabin, mixing with their passionate moans and the smack of their bodies slamming together. Like the wind, they too raised their volume, upped their ferocity. They were all alone, after all. Modesty could wait until the morning.

Jake's cock throbbed in Jacob's grip. His asshole pulsed ever faster, milking Jacob for all he had to give. Jacob's body burned, desperate for release, and he slammed his cock down to the hilt and took rapid little thrusts at those tight depths, his head and groin aching.

The wendigo gave a garbled whimper. Several powerful twitches of that cock shot through Jacob's palm. Lewd splatters sounded from beneath his fluffy heft, leaving nothing to doubt; Jake was cumming for the second time. On his own face.

That realisation pushed Jacob over the edge. He grasped the monster's tail to brace himself and bottomed out with a mighty thrust. He collapsed on Jake's back, burying his face within the fluff of his mane, his cock unloading a night of pent-up lust deep into the wendigo's heated hole.

Jacob had no clue when his climax ended. His body went weak, his head faint, his sweat stuck to the wendigo's mane. He drooled onto the fur as hungry muscles squeezed and stroked every inch of his length, draining his balls of every drop they had to give.

Bestial panting, deep and hoarse, brought his mind rushing back. Jake's horns rose from the sofa, and his skull peeked lethargically over his shoulder. Yellow eyes, unfocused and dimmed, still lit the contours of his skull in a golden sheen. Fat strokes of cum crisscrossed his bony snout and forehead, heavy dollops dribbling off his bottom jaw.

Jake spread his jaws. A tongue—more white than purple—swayed within the cramped darkness, ropes of cum oozing off its underside. Jake closed his mouth, tilted his head, and, with a noisy gulp, swallowed his payload.

How unfortunate that a skull had no means of blushing. Jacob couldn't help but giggle as he imagined the white turning a bright red.

“What's so funny?" asked Jake, running a finger over his skull. His claw dragged a thick string of cum in front of his eye. “Oh."

His acrobatic tongue, now purple again, swiped at his skull, scooping off as much mess as it could carry—smearing what it missed—before returning to his mouth. He swallowed and repeated the process, this time focusing on the globs dripping from his lower jaw. Jacob watched, amused, still buried in the wendigo's backside, his cock warmed by his own cum.

Several wet slurps later, Jake asked, “Did I get it all?"

A weighty blob dripped from the upper ridge of his eye socket, disappearing into the void beside the yellow orb of light.

Jacob nodded, holding in a smile. “Most of it."

“Good! That was a lot of fun."

Though his eyes still shimmered, Jake had stopped panting—surprising, given how hard his body quivered moments prior. Jacob needed more time to recover. A forehead slick with sweat, his shaky breaths clouded as they met the cold air. He planted his hands on the wendigo's ass cheeks and pushed back, letting his cock roll out of the stretched hole. Cum oozed out after it, rolling down the wendigo's taint and dripping onto the sofa.

Jacob swiped his cock over the wendigo's tail, wiping off the spit and cum. Jake didn't seem to mind; he watched on with brightening eyes, an expression Jacob interpreted as curiosity.

“It's still a few hours until sunrise." Jake flicked his tail free from Jacob's grip. “Don't worry, though! I'll sit on your face until then."

Jacob snatched the tail back and kept cleaning his cock. “Appreciate the offer, but I'll have to pass." He didn't fancy having his own cum drying on his face while he slept. And though he might be a hypocrite for leaving Jake's skull and tail to suffer the same fate, the wendigo didn't seem bothered by it. “It'd be easier to sleep on your back, I think."

“Will that be warm enough?"

Jacob leaned forward, sliding his arms around the wendigo's neck, hugging him tight, and nuzzled his head into the fluffy mane. The grey fur blanketed his face in softness and warmth. He crawled forward, waist and legs joining the rest of him atop Jake's back, nestled in the heat radiating from his fur. Jake wobbled, but soon steadied himself, easily supporting Jacob's weight.

Jacob gave the fur a quiet kiss. “It's plenty warm."

“Oh…good! Then I'll see you alive in the morning? Not frozen to death?"

“Mmm-hm. Night." He lacked the energy to say much else.

“I'll get up extra early to catch breakfast for you. Grey or brown rabbits?"

“Th-that's not necessary."

“But it is! What sort of friend would I be if I let you starve?"

“I-It's just…" Once more in a panic—an exhausted panic—Jacob blurted out his first excuse. “I'm a vegan."

“Oh… Humans are even stranger than I thought." Jake sounded sorely disappointed with Jacob's faux diet. Disapproving, even. “There isn't much edible forage during winter, but I'll wake up extra, extra early to find everything I can."

“Could we just sleep in? Please?"

“Okay! I'm great at sleeping." Jake lowered himself onto the sofa, keeping Jacob supported. “Night, Jacob! Oh, and night, Chirpy! I love you!"

Not even Jake's mane could shield Jacob's ears from the piercing squawk in reply. At least Chirpy had been kind enough to stay quiet during their lovemaking.

What a good bird.

---

[Check out the sequel here]