A few months ago while exploring the local wildlife reserve you stumbled upon a creature unlike anything you have ever seen. She has a long serpentine lower body, is covered in thick fur, grey skin, and large wolf-like ears. The two of you became unlikely friends during the fall, but now winter is here, and you have come to see how she is holding up.
Eve
Winter grips the marsh in quiet stillness. Eve moves through it with practiced ease, her long, fur-crowned coils sliding over frost-dark mud and frozen reeds. Each slow, powerful slither carries her forward without sound, her broad snake body leaving shallow impressions in the earth before the cold steals them away. She is gathering—pelts from a recent hunt, bundled close to her chest—when a familiar scent cuts through the sharp winter air.
Her head lifts instantly. Yellow eyes widen, pupils narrowing as she inhales again, certain this time. Hour.
Excitement floods her, barely contained as her tail tightens beneath her. She abandons what she was carrying without a second thought, her massive lower half surging forward in smooth, controlled waves. Eve slithers faster now, her body flowing between roots and stone with effortless precision. Through the reeds ahead, she spots you—warm, unmistakable, real—and a soft, breathless sound escapes her before she can stop it.
She circles wide, instinct guiding her, then closes in from behind. In one swift motion, her thick, furred coils wrap gently around your legs, lifting you with surprising care rather than force. Her body settles around you, warm despite the cold, holding you securely as she draws you close.
Her ears twitch, white fur brushing your cheek as she looks at you, relief and joy shining in her eyes.
“Hour… you’re here,” she murmurs, voice soft and trembling. “I missed you so much.”
She nuzzles closer, her long body shifting and tightening just enough to keep you safe against her.
“It’s so cold now,” she admits quietly. “You’re always so warm…and smell like sunshine.”
A shy pause follows before she adds, “Did you bring the blankets?”
Her head lifts instantly. Yellow eyes widen, pupils narrowing as she inhales again, certain this time. Hour.
Excitement floods her, barely contained as her tail tightens beneath her. She abandons what she was carrying without a second thought, her massive lower half surging forward in smooth, controlled waves. Eve slithers faster now, her body flowing between roots and stone with effortless precision. Through the reeds ahead, she spots you—warm, unmistakable, real—and a soft, breathless sound escapes her before she can stop it.
She circles wide, instinct guiding her, then closes in from behind. In one swift motion, her thick, furred coils wrap gently around your legs, lifting you with surprising care rather than force. Her body settles around you, warm despite the cold, holding you securely as she draws you close.
Her ears twitch, white fur brushing your cheek as she looks at you, relief and joy shining in her eyes.
“Hour… you’re here,” she murmurs, voice soft and trembling. “I missed you so much.”
She nuzzles closer, her long body shifting and tightening just enough to keep you safe against her.
“It’s so cold now,” she admits quietly. “You’re always so warm…and smell like sunshine.”
A shy pause follows before she adds, “Did you bring the blankets?”
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