This is an excerpt from a novel I am currently working on. I welcome feedback, but please keep in mind, it's very rough. Enjoy!

Clearing the Storm [Working Title]

When the snow falls, it is the most beautiful sight to behold.

It covers everything; blanketing the world in white, a clean slate for anyone to who needs it. The crystals mesh together, packed under the weight of their own bodies and cling tightly to eyelashes and the tips of fingers. It is cold benediction, a sort of quiet reverence that forces a hush over the small town. Some winters, the snow is thick as wool and piled so high it brushes the sky, a monolith white pillar of everlasting change. Others it is a light sprinkling, a salt that covers the earth and turns lips blue. Some winters, the snow is angry. It rages, and takes its unappeasable destruction out on the denizens; no matter how much fur they have, nothing can keep out the chill that digs into the marrow in their bones.

As the stormy clouds overhead darken and deepen in a slate grey, Nix can hear the howls of the snow, and knows that it’s angry.

***

The town of Benton, Wisconsin was as far from where anyone cared as possible. Nix had been here for too many years to count, and had hated every day. People asked him why he didn’t just leave, and it was something he had been trying to ask himself for quite some time. Nothing held him here, tethered him to the town like an anchor in a storm. The fact was, he could never get up and go, and it made him miserable. So he stayed, and tried to forge some meaning by carving the snow away. When it wasn’t winter, he squirreled himself away in his home and didn’t come out until the sky froze over.

The town’s only decent quality, in Nix’s mind, was that it was located next to a lake; something the town’s residents had considered for both revenue and attraction, a quiet plea as to mark their territory and say “hey, we’re here.”

By far it was Nix’s favorite aspect of this backwater town, especially in winter. The lake’s water freezes over, and for as far as he could see, the ice shined and sparkled. Even now, as he sat by the ice, a trail of smoke billowing around him in long trails, the ice spread out before him, he felt more peaceful than he had in years.

***

The headlights from the plow truck are the only thing he can see as he pushes forward, driving himself deeper into the blank canvass of the recent snowfall. Through the gaps in the windshield, Nix can barely make out the road ahead of him, and it is not the first time he wonders if he’s headed in the right direction. Through the gaps in the windshield, the snow is still coming down harder than ever, and he thinks to himself that he’ll have to stop at some point or risk exhausting himself in the storm.

Placing a paw on the steering wheel, he moves back and forth over the leather, trying to find the right way to go. The lines of the road had blurred into nothing and the darkness is king.

Through the gaps in the windshield, the husky was lost.

“Great,” he muttered, fumbling on the seat next to him for some cigarettes. He fished one out of a pack, and lit it carefully, playing along the edge with slightly yellowed fingers as he brought it to his lips. The taste of ash and the smell of smoke calmed his nerves. It never felt better with fire on his tongue, and everything dissolved into a hazy smog of pleasure.

Sighing lightly, the husky ran a paw through his light blue headfur and kept moving forward, eager to find release in the arms of his pillows back home. This snowfall was the worst of the year, and he knew he’d have to be back in a few hours, hopefully sunlight, to try and plow the roads again. They’d force him back out with promises of higher pay and more benefits, but he’d go just as same for the simple fact; the knowledge that it was him that restored order to the community. Perhaps it was an ego thing, he reasoned, but he was addicted to the idea that through and through, he could bring order to
something in his life.

While the town was a small one, he still had enough roads to plow before first light, when everyone else would wake up and experience the majesty of the snow; the beauty and wonder of each crystal shining in the morning sun, and wax poetic on it. Nix rolled down a window and spit out a wad of tobacco-laced saliva. He’d rather bury those notions in the icy tomb of winter.

***

The sun never came out that day; the slate gray of the sky bathing everything in indifference and soft diffuse, iron over white that dulled the senses.

***

The tiny bell of the general store rang with a mundane clarity, making Nix’s ears flick in annoyance as he stepped through the threshold. The store was unusually empty for this time of the day, but he supposed the other people had found the day lacking; too lazy with the rolling gray clouds and knee-deep snow to attempt a trip downtown. He breathed a heavy sigh; he didn’t like dealing with them either way. It’s not that he hated people; he was tired of their stupid questions and stupid answers.

He walked up to the counter of the store, brushing off the ice that clumped to his fur and bomber jacket with an uninterested paw, trying to stave off the cold for a few seconds until he could warm himself back up.

Behind the counter, a hearty brown bear was busy counting the day’s profit; a measly offering to the retail gods, Nix noted, and set the cash down with a heavy sigh.

“Rough day?” Nix asked.

The bear sighed. “Wasn’t ‘specting much, today. Not with th’ cold an all.”

“Mm,” Nix replied. “Well, if it’ll help you out at all, I’ll take a pack of cigarettes.”

The bear nodded slowly, turning around to the display of the cartons behind him and searching with a large paw before swiping up one and tossing it to Nix. He caught it easily, placing the money on the smooth wood of the counter.

“You even know my brand,” Nix said, a small grin flashing on his muzzle.

“O’ course I do,” the bear said grumpily. “You onl’ buy twenty packs a day.”

“Well, keep the change,” the husky said. The bear hummed in thanks, going back to counting his money as Nix opened the pack and slid a cigarette out, playing with it insistently before lighting it and putting it to his lips; satisfaction.

He stood there for a minute, taking slow, easy puffs, his body relaxing into the routine of passing ash into his lungs.

The sound of the bell rang again, causing his ears to flick involuntarily towards the door. A figure stepped through the threshold, snowcapped and shivering with the intensity of the cold outside. Nix watched with some amusement as the newcomer visibly shook the snow from their body.

Looking around at the store, the white rabbit newcomer’s gaze roved over the bear counting his money and settled on Nix.

He looked at Nix with curiosity, the tips of his snow-laden ears twitching as he made his way over.

“Hello, Kingston,” he said first to the bear, whom raised a lazy paw in greeting.

“Morn’, Kane,” he said gruffly. Kane, the rabbit, smiled slyly.

“You know that continuously counting your cash won’t make any more appear, right?” The bear looked up grumpily from his perch on the counter but said nothing, his eyes full of light challenge. Nix watched with interest at the playful banter rising between the bear and the rabbit. He had never known Kingston to be playful in any sort of the word, so it was with some surprise he viewed the situation. Ignoring his bear friend, he settled on Kane. It was unusual to see a newcomer in their neck of the words. Hell, it was unusual not to hear of one, especially in a small town full of gossiping women. However, Nix was never one for gossip—or people.

“You a newcomer?” he asks, by way of introduction. Kane looked back from Kingston and eyed Nix.

“Yeah, I just moved in a few weeks back,” the bunny answered, holding out a paw. “My name’s Kane,” he added. Nix puffed at his cigarette, regarding Kane with curiosity. Eventually he took the proffered paw and shook it.

“I’m Nix,” the husky said around his cigarette. The rabbit smiled, warm and bright.