Winter was always a morose time of year for Masacrik. The annual cycle of his emotions was much like the life of a star; if autumn was his supernova of rage and hunger for fear, then winter was his black dwarf. Energy gone, too cold and exhausted to keep going. He'd rather spend his winters hibernating in his warm bed, with Ushka tucked up against himself. But nooo, he had to be an adult with a job and trudge through the snow to the bus station to get to work. Eugh. Who the hell decided this was a good idea?