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Forge paces as he waits for the feather gel to dry. The soft glow of dusk quickly gives way to full night, and the lights come on. He checks the clock on the wall, the digital face glowing softly. The seconds tick by painfully into minutes. Then, as the prescribed time finishes, he continues. The complex combs feel both familiar and alien in his paws. He works them through his ruff, and down the sides of his neck, and hummed in blatant insecurity. Why is this so hard? he wonde...

The crisp air bit into her lungs with each breath, and every step crackled with frost. Just over the horizon, Prota could see the sun starting to rise. Pastel colors grew with every minute, painting the landscape around her like a dream. Color bloomed to life around her, reflecting off of every frost covered surface. Even her feathers were lightly painted with the early dawn's light. She continued to walk, trying to find a rock she'd seen the day before. Aha, there it is, she ...