Northern Territories, Pt. 1
Gnashing teeth were all that the frigidly cold harehound could picture as he trudged on, his head down and his coat held up as high as he could on his face. Blood poured from a gaping wound on the left side of his torso, his free arm clutching to that wound as tight as he could in the howling winds, snow, and cold. His overweight frame was bundled up in a thick, puffy green coat, black ski pants, and a black hat which covered even his long, pointed ears. His tail was the only bit of fur that was sticking out from his shell of clothing which kept a large portion of the cold out, but the dark brown appendage was hung low between his legs as it too was…