Monthly Story Prompts

What does your character think about the winter weather?

Cold doesn’t bother them

The wind howled through the streets of Faline. Shuttered windows banged, open doors were blown closed, any tiny gap let the draught in. The streets were unusually quiet as only the foolish or the needy went out tonight. Those finishing work hurried home, not stopping until they reached their destination. On any usual night, Kivo would be overlooking a busy den of gamblers but, tonight, he sat on one of his bar stools alone. The saloon was empty as the weather had driven his customers to stay indoors but Kivo didn't mind. The fire was roaring, the doors were locked and he relished in the quiet he never got.

In front of him on the bar was a bottle of his favourite bourbon and a basic glass. For the customers, they were served the finest glassware with embellishments and engravings. Kivo didn't much care for himself what vessel carried his liquor. He just refused to swoop as low as drinking straight from the bottle. He was a few drinks down (close to half a bottle) and was beginning to feel the effects. With a sigh, he hopped off his perch and leant back against the firm wood. He stared out over his little business, gazing at the tables and décor around him. One would be proud of what they'd accomplished but Kivo frowned at the sight. It needed to be more. His success was his everything and he never settled for long on the steps up to it. From where he had started to where he was now, it was a huge improvement but it just wasn't good enough in his own eyes. The dancing market was to open in the next few days and it made him anxious for the future. Sangre Mar were striding forwards whilst he stood still. It wasn't good enough.

He needed to have new ideas, new events, new...anything! The last thing Kivo wanted was to be stuck in a rut as his competitors soared. Well, Enn was more of an associate now with the ties to the tunnels beneath the city but he wasn't the only one who threatened his success. The criminal world was forever changing and adapting; newcomers were always rising up from the ranks. Kivo needed to do more than just tread the water - he needed to swim the lengths required.

He emptied his glass and slammed it harshly down onto the bar. The answer he was looking for wasn't going to be at the bottom of a bottle. He cleared up after himself, placing the whiskey back on the shelf and putting the glass in the sink. With no second thought, Kivo left, locking the business up behind him. He had no coat or anything to shield his body from the aggressively chilling winds that whined through the narrow alleys of Faline. However, the alcohol was stirring his internal furnace and, apart from his mane becoming tangled, he barely felt the blizzard that was approaching. With Faline situated in the north, it was almost unheard of for them to receive snow. But, the winter was forecast to be brutal this year and there had already been reports of scatterings beyond the jungle. Where Kivo was from, harsh conditions were the norm. It was a long, long time ago (more than a 100 years ago), but Kivo still remembered snippets from his past. Five foot trenches of snow and running low on provisions was a typical season for Kivo when he'd been a young boy. The pathetic smattering of snowflakes was hardly a concern. As long as he could continue making money, the cold was never going to bother him.