Winter wonderland - snow party

[Morgan]

Morgan lied exhausted on the warm ground, panting away in an attempt at relaxation. It had taken him roughly a week to set everything up, but it was finally finished: the entire town square, along with its vicinity, was covered by a thick blanket of white, fluffy, clean snow. The samoyed was working all week of purifying enough water to do it, as well as to prepare the snow to match the consistency of that which he found long before in Snowbound. It all seemed to pay off, however, as the tired dog watched snowflakes rain from the sky. Artificial clouds hung above the square, and little flakes fell in short bursts every minute or two.

In the center of the square was an ice sculpture resembling Morgan himself, accompanied by what appeared to be Vigenere. Right in front of the sculpture was a plate of s'mores, all pre-made and cold but still full of flavor. A few feet away from them were a pair of bowls; one had cold, half-frozen water, while the other was full of some that was warm and steamy. Finally, a huge old metal pot sat on the opposite end of the sculpture. It was filled to the brim with a hot alligator-and-vegetable soup, which the dog had prepared to the best of his ability according to a chicken soup recipe from an old cookbook.

The General did not feel the need to call out or bark for anyone to arrive. The pure white display was so bright that any Tangler nearby would be able to see it in all its glory. Instead of saying a word, Morgan rolled onto his side and stretched his legs out to attempt to make a snow angel. His efforts resulted in a strange-looking oval instead, but he didn't care. He had finally brought winter to Tanglewood, and it felt great. The mixture of warm and cold was so very unique that Morgan wished he had the energy to make it happen every day.

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Jim would be a fucking liar if he said he didn't miss the cold of Iowa. Sure, he hated the place. The people, the farmland, everything. But ... he liked the snow. He'd liked making snowmen and snow angels. The snow .. was a safe haven. An excuse to leave the house, where Frank wouldn't bother him, just for a few hours.
... So he'd been excited hearing about the snow, he won't lie. An absent sort of excitement, a little more prominent than if, say, it was just a regular snowday. Cause this was scheduled and, y'know, just there till it melted. Jim grins as he takes it in, eyes set towards the sky as the snow lands on his pelt.
He feels at peace. More at peace than he did before, in any case.
"This is really cool, Morgan," Jim says appreciatively. His voice is warm but distracted, something nostalgic in his eyes as he looks about. The wolfdog stops to snag a s'more before he turns around. .. Maybe it was a little childish, but he'd like to make a snowman. A snowball fight would be fun, and something he hadn't done in the snow before, but he'd started that mud fight a while ago, so! No need for now. This being .. thought .. Jim makes his way to a corner of the square, adjusting his scarf as he goes. Then, the canine begins with a snowball, plopping it on the ground and beginning to roll it in the snow. .. It'll just be a small snowman, but Jim has a reputation to think of. Unless his reputation isn't enough .. like that ... to be made fun of for it. Jim isn't sure.
Well, in any case, his reputation isn't as set as the one back home. He can do anything he wants to now. Hah!

[glow=black,2,300]— ✰ —[/glow]

[toboggan]

Back on 42nd street, snow falling angelically from the heavens above wasn’t uncommon to spot in the wintertimes, though it was rare to see it stick to the ground as the pollution-infused aridity drastically shortened the powder’s life expectancy. In the past, he had viewed pictures snow-coated valleys and completely solid lakes on postcards and in the pages of books, always with a soft awe, as if the chance to ever actually catch glimpse of them was fictional. Instead, the idea of holiday weather for Leroy touched on dirty slush, the scent of seasonal dishes originating from nearby restaurants, and temperatures that ranged from absolutely lukewarm to mildly arctic. Never had he ever celebrated Yuletide - not that he was a grinch of sorts, it’s just that he never quite found the time. Back then, all the hours on his daily schedule were booked; maybe at three, he’d gamble for an hour, and then at four-thirty, Leroy opted to shake some for fellow down to make up for the money he had lost. When his scandalous lifestyle wasn’t taking up all his time, the mutt followed a passion in which he still practically treats like a religion to this day - sleeping. Once he woke, it went back to step A of acting vulgarly and ignoring the later consequences. See, celebrating some cashgrab of a holiday just didn’t fit into the canine’s routine.

Today, his virginity to all things wintry was lost. At first, Leroy began to panic, as his blurry vision could only perceive the blinding colour white; it’s safe to say that he thought that he suffered yet another stroke.

However, this proved to be stupidity on his part. As the wolfhound traversed further, he observed the figure of the new guardsman, Jim, rolling around a snowball like some toddler. Then it hit him. This was one of Morgan’s ploys. The Samoyed could control water and stuff right? And what was snow but fluffy ice?

"This’s weird," Leroy mustered towards his commander-in-chief, ”never seen so much of it... kinda gives me a headache.”

Everything gave him a headache nowadays, even powdery artificial aqua summoned by a poofy pooch.

[Crow Roux]

[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts

PHYSICALLY HARD | MENTALLY MEDIUM | MAGICALLY MEDIUM | ATTACK IN [b]#757f96[/b]

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Snow was the last thing Crow would see here, but there it was right in front of his snout in all of its wintry glory. He had to squint against its brilliance in the lighting until his eyes became adjusted, but when he was finally able to take it all in, he felt excitement well up in his chest. The feline was better adjusted for cold weather, and he missed the chill against his skin. It wasn't exactly cold here.

"Aw, haha, Leroy," he said as he extended a paw to gently punch the... much larger canine in the leg. "Get some sunglasses!"