Chapter Text
Blizzard scowled as the TV showed her face. Once again, the show she had been watching had been replaced with a Wanted ad warranting her arrest. "Fine way to thank someone for helping to stop Robuttnik," she mused sarcastically as she turned off the screen, leaving frost on the remote. Prompted by the growl of her stomach, she stood and stretched before walking towards the kitchen.
Blizzard wasn't too odd of a mobian at first glance. She was average height for a teenaged female wolf, with a slender figure to match. Her white fur was messy and long, obviously not well-kept, and her eyes were ice blue. She wore a turquoise tank top and blue denim shorts. If one paid attention to details, however, they would notice the entire interior of the house was covered in a thin layer of ice and her breath was, in fact, quite visible. She seemed not to mind it, though, if she even noticed.
Blizzard opened the refrigerator to find it nearly empty. She groaned as her stomach made its presence known yet again. "That bat had better pay up next time I see her or I'm taking those items back and selling them," she complained as the fridge door swung shut.
A knock at her front door signaled the arrival of a guest. Now alert and wary, Blizzard's posture straightened as she walked towards the door as she thought of every possible way for her to escape from many possible scenarios. To her relief, the peephole in her door proved the person to only be a mailman. Sighing, she composed herself and opened the door calmly, normally. "Hi," the man, or mobian as it turned out, greeted with a envelope, "letter for a Ms... Blizzara Lupe?" She gave him a weird look before realizing what the problem was. She corrected, "The letter says, 'Blizzard' not 'Blizzara'. See?" She pointed to the cursive handwriting and continued, "The stem is raised here whereas here its not." She could see the enlightened expression on his face as he thanked her for pointing that difference out to him. He handed her the letter and wished her a nice day.
Blizzard shut the door as the mailman walked away and frowned once protected by the wooden entryway. "You're lucky he didn't know French," the wolf muttered, frustrated at the sender of the letter. She opened the envelope, curious now to see who might have sent it. She sighed and remarked, "Of course it was Rouge. Who else would give me close to a heart attack over a stupid letter?" She skimmed over the letter, noting the usual details told through the cursive handwriting. Not that it told her much. "Well," she grumbled as she stalked towards her room to get changed, "time to go see if I'm getting paid yet."