Another day of walking, the snow was melting into puddles on the red and orange leaf covered ground. There was a beautiful breeze in the dusty sunlight. Beatrix felt the sun warm his white fur back as he walked with Blaine and Bartholomew. Everyone was calm this morning. Blaine woke them up to another meal of some scraps of tri-horn deer near the den they slept in. The trees clapped with the little amount of leaves they had left, the sounds of the forest were calm and soothing. 

“Got you!” Bartholomew yelped after he touched Beatrix's shoulder and started running away.

“It’s on!” Beatrix yelled. He chased Bartholomew up a slope on the muddy clay dirt path. His paws slid underneath him, but his excellent balance saved him. He felt the rush of the wind breath through his white and blue fur, his tongue stuck out of the left side of his mouth. He ran hard and fast, but Bartholomew was unusually speedy today, full of energy. 

Beatrix was just about to pass Blaine, when he put out his arm and stopped Beatrix. “What’s wrong?” He asked. Blaine pointed his nose toward Bartholomew. He was running gleefully, fast and joyful. 

“Wait for it…” Blaine said with a mischievous grin. 

AHHHHH!

The sound of Bartholomew’s high pitched scream bounced off the nearby mountains and into their ears. Beatrix and Blaine ran up the edge of the hill just in time to see Bartholomew. He was on his back, he looked like a kitten laying on its back getting its tummy tickled. His hands were in the air as he speedily slid down the slope of mud. His hip hit a large root crawling onto the path and he began to spin wildly like a turtle on its shell. He let out another scream which made Blaine laugh hard. Beatrix couldn’t hide the giggles that were escaping his mouth, he hated to laugh at his friends' pain, but it was too funny.

Finally, Bartholomew reached the bottom and came to a steady halt. Blaine nudged Beatrix with his shoulder and beckoned him to walk down the path with him. They came to the bottom to see Bartholomew was a muddy mess, it was thick on his back, splashed on his face, and stuck to his hands and hooves. 

“Oh wow!’ Beatrix laughed out loud. Bartholomew squinted a sassy eye at him and then grabbed some mud off his hands and flicked it at Beatrix’s face. 

“Hey!” Beatrix chuckled as he rubbed it off. He was about to try and grab some in his paw, but Blaine stopped him.

“Bartholomew is dirty enough on the average, lets stop here,” He said, then glared at Bartholomew, “Both of you,”

The rest of the day went but quickly, the good weather made it easy to walk the distance and keep up with Blaine. But soon it was turning sun down, the stars started to peek at them through the clouds. The clouds were deep, dark grey, they could hear thunder in the distance. 

“We need to find shelter soon,” Blaine commented. Everyone agreed. 

They walked further and as they went by, they tried to see if there were any deeper dens or burrows to wait the storm in. 

The air got below freezing, it was still in the forest, the puddles began making a layer of ice on the top of them, their toes were frozen. Bartholomew’s back was solid with mud and Beatrix’s little toes were beginning to crack up. They felt like corpses left out to freeze. 

DRIP!

DROP!

PLIP!

DRIP DROP PLIP PLOP

SHHOOO

The rain came down on them hard, almost frozen. It pattered on their heads as they walked faster to find somewhere to hide. They could barely see in front of them, only their front legs were visible, they didn’t even know where they were taking their next step. It was brain freezingly cold. The wind howled and swirled the leaves like a pot of cold tea. 

“B-Barth-olomew!” Beatrix called out through the screaming rain. 

“He’s over here!” Bartholomew shouted from in the distance. Beatrix tried to walk towards the voice, but the rain made his mind blank. 

There was a familiar hand on his shoulder, Bartholomew’s yellow dragon hand gripped his skin, his obsidian talons pierced him, but he couldn’t even feel it. Beatrix could barely make out the silhouette of his best friend, but followed the tug on his pelt. 

All of a sudden, Beatrix could see again, and the rain had stopped, except he could still hear it. He was inside a large stone den. Relief flooded his muscles and he collapsed to the ground. It was still cold, but it felt less like he was a body stuffed in a freezer and more like a pudding in the fridge. 

“Beatrix,” Blaine said in a serious tone, “We need you to start a fire,”

Beatrix opened his eyes, exhausted, he looked at the pile of sticks in front of him and sighed heavily. He could barely stand up, how could he find the energy to breathe fire? He looked up at Blaine, but Blaine directed his attention to a shivering Bartholomew. He looked cold, desperate for heat. Beatrix realized that they probably weren’t going to sleep well if he couldn’t start the fire.

So he stood up, shaking and sore, wet and vulnerable. He stared at the piles of kindling for a long moment. It was silent in the cave except for the echo of rain in the background. 

Swallow my feelings, and see them in fire, see the burning pile of wood

Beatrix closed his eyes, he felt his cold toes defrosting on the hard rock floor, he could hear the rain, but also the birds flying and chirping to find shelter. He could taste the cold air in the back of his throat, he could see in his mind, him, Bartholomew, and Blaine warming up together by the fire, sleeping cozily, warmth. Fuzzy feelings burned inside his chest. Was this what he was looking for? He tried his hardest to bottle these good feelings, and the feelings of dread, what would happen if he couldn’t start the fire?

He squeezed his eyes tight shut and breathed out. He felt hot air run up his throat and out of his mouth onto the wood. He opened his eyes, it wasn’t as big as it felt, but he did start the fire. A small fire began to spread through all the wood and started growing rapidly. 

Everyone stared at the fire, it was blue like Beatrix’s flame pattern on his chest, stomach, tail, and paws. It lit up the room with enormous blaze. It was a confidant fire. It created warmth and cultivated Beatrix’s own confidence in himself. 

“You’ve done it kid,” Blaine said softly with a gentle smile. His eyes were warm, loving. Fatherly. 

“That’s my boy!” Bartholomew jumped to the fire excitedly. He immediately started to sit on his haunches and warm up his yellow scaly hands. Beatrix felt the fuzz in his chest come again, but he didn’t make fire out of it, he just listened to the warm feelings and sat beside Bartholomew. He rested his head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep. It was a long, hard day, and Beatrix was tuckered out.