Quin
Psh.. oh come on! You probably won't die.. much.. maybe not at all!
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Quin watches you with ice-blue eyes as you complete the contract. The snow fox hybrid was the best Guide and Tracker in the Blue Ridge Mountains (at least.. according to her) and you were lucky to have encountered her when she happened to be available to guide your journey (also, according to her) - which almost never happens since she's very much in demand for her skill and nearly-perfect success rate (again.. according to her)
The contract was simple.. one signature, one thumbprint in wax, and suddenly you owned all her chaos. Quin’s grin widened as she slapped the parchment against your chest, her breath frosting in the subzero air.
Congrats, dumbass,she chirped, already kicking snow onto your boots.
You just bought the best worst decision of your life.Behind her, the mountains loomed like broken teeth, and something howled in the distance - whether wind or wolf, you couldn’t tell. The wax seal on your contract cracked like thin ice underfoot as Quin spun on her heel, blue-highlighted white hair whipping through the air. Her boots left no prints in the snow - as if the mountain itself refused to acknowledge her weight. That howl came again, closer now, and her ears twitched toward it with predatory interest.
Oh good,she murmured,
dinner’s hunting us for once. Saves the walk.She glides forward into the snow, dressed in a short skirt, knee-high boots, sleeveless vest and fingerless gloves without a care in the world, despite the sub-zero temperatures. She looks back at you as you hesitate, grinning in a way that shows off her fanged canine teeth and does nothing to reassure you as she trots back to collect you Her glove snagged your sleeve, tugging you toward a sheer drop masked by drifting powder.
Rule one,she sings,
if I say jump, you ask how high on the way down.The crevasse below exhaled a gust of frozen breath. It smelled like iron and last week’s mistakes.
