Snow Job

 

 

Overall, Cody felt, his technique was improving.

Crisp air stung his exposed cheeks as he waited in line for the ski lift. Second time in a row now he’d managed to come to a faltering stop before the chute, shimmy his way into the queue, and shuffle his way forward amongst the vibrantly garbed array of other arriving skiers and snowboarders, without tangling his skis in someone else's, dropping his poles, or falling over. Heck, he’d only wiped out once during that last run, and it had been blue!

“Yo… Line’s moving dude.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Cody nodded at the boarder behind him--the guy was likely rolling his eyes, though it was impossible to say behind the reflective mask he wore--and slid a few feet closer to the lift. Probably his last run for the day. The soft ache in his thighs, combined with the pink and gold hue bouncing off the powdered landscape from the dropping sun, signalled the onset of his limits for a first day on the slopes. He could get used to this… the oddly freeing sensation of swooping down a mountainside, feeling at once alone and one with the world… Maybe this vacation in Snowpoint hadn’t been a dumb idea after all. Still, he was looking forward to relaxing in the lodge with a nice hot--

Speaking of which, the two girls chatting and laughing in front of him were certainly no burden on the eyes. Both wore sleek, expensive athletic gear, making his bulky protection look sloppy and cheap. Copper hair spilled out of the helmet of the one on the left, while her friend showed curled brunette locks piled in the hood of her crimson jacket. The ease at which they managed the ice-packed ground of the lift queue screamed experience, and the subtle flexes of their toned calves and thighs weren’t much hidden by their skin-tight black neoprene pants.

Damn. Who said snow gear couldn’t be sexy?

The clattering of the lift snapped his attention back to the present. With a muted swish, the two beauties slid into position for the next chair, ready to be whisked to the summit.

“Hey.” The lift attendant waved frantically at Cody.” “You too, single rider. Sorry ladies, gotta balance the chair.”

“Me?” The oncoming chair was approaching the turn, fast.” Uhhh, sure…” In a rush, he dug one pole in too hard, sending himself off at an angle into the chair well. The brunette, looking back as the lift attendant spoke, muttered a curse, and side-stepped just in time. Cody slid awkwardly in between the girls, their elbows brushing, just as the chair rounded the corner, its arm smacking neatly into the attendant’s gloved grip.

Cody let out a sheepish chuckle. “Hi…”

The brunette’s glare might have been laced with napalm.

“Poles up!”

The girls were already braced, squatting smoothly into the arriving chair. Cody barely managed to free his poles from the snow, before the seat smacked his thighs with all the subtlety of a freight train, forcing him to tumble into the chair with a grunt. A swing, a clatter, and they were off, hoisted by the hand of a giant into the heavens. He caught a glimpse of the attendant giving him a shrug, and a white grin showing above his scraggly dark beard. ‘ I tried!’ the look seemed to say.

Taking a second to scoot back a few inches into the seat, Cody started to reach for the restraining bar, but paused as he noticed neither of his companions making a move for it.

Huh. Guess the cool skiers don’t use the bar.

The brunette had switched off the laser beams for now, and was instead making a point not to look at him. Could be why the right side of his face felt like it had been hit by a pokémon’s Blizzard. Not a problem, her friend seemed like the hotter of the two anyway. He wouldn’t let a little lift-mounting mishap ruin his chance at a first impression!

“So,” Cody began, nodding at the copper-haired girl on his left. “How’re the slopes treating you today?” That was how the cool skiers said it, wasn’t it? ‘The slopes’?

She studied him from beneath the veil of her navy knit beanie, which accented her blue and cream jacket perfectly. Not to mention the sparkle of those blue eyes, her obscuring ski mask hanging out of the way beneath her chin. “Well enough,” she said, a hint of exotic accent tickling her words. “A touch icy in patches, and there’s supposed to be a storm soon.” Johto? No… something more Western.

“Yeah, I noticed it was getting slippery out there. This cold, huh? The wind really bites on the way down.” Good god, was that the best he could do? He might as wear a nametag that said, “Hi, I’m boring”! Before she could open her mouth to reply to his inanity, he blurted, “Is this your first time in Snowpoint?”

“Actually, yes. My friend and I decided to visit this resort on mmm… what is the word… ‘holiday’.” Long lashes fluttered, brushing away the tiny crystalline flakes which were beginning to drift past them on their upward journey. “It is quite nice, though rather smaller than expected.”

“Small? I guess, but then I’m no expert.” Cody forced a laugh. If this was a ‘small’ resort, with its thirty or so runs, what counted as a big one? Though, to be fair, many of the ‘runs’ were smaller sections of longer routes. “My first time here as well. I’m from Slateport. You?”

“Lumiose, in Kalos.”

Aha! That explained the way she rolled those l’s and r’s… like she was sampling a fine dessert with each syllable. “Wow, that’s awesome. I’ve heard it’s really pretty there, and the mountains around Snowbelle must be incredible. I’ve always wanted to travel in that region, but never had the chance.”

“It is pretty, but-

“Expensive.” The brunette interrupted, her whip-crack comment coupled with a sidelong glance at Cody. ‘ Too expensive for you’ the look said, though at least the daggers in her dark gaze were a tad blunter now.

“Expensive, yes, and crowded. So many trainers. Ugh.” The other girl said, shaking her head. “The gym brings them from every country, and they walk about like they own the city.”

“Yeah… trainers are kinda like that here too. World revolves around them and all that. I take it you two aren’t? Trainers, I mean, not that you think you own this place!”

Blue eyes giggled. “Of course not. I have a pet litleo at my home, but would never dream of sending my darling out to have himself beaten by some… how do you say? Pill-swallowing brute. My friend feels the same of her fennekin, I believe.”

“Litleo and fennekin, huh? Those are cute!” Cody forced a smile at the brunette, and got a flat stare for his trouble. Swallowing, he turned back to the friendlier side of the chair. “Never had a pokémon of my own. Just a family skitty. Don’t really know much about them either. I-”

The lift shuddered, and ground to a halt, their chair swaying with its momentum. Cody sat upright, conversation breaking off. They were only about halfway, why had they stopped? It wasn’t a problem with the lift, was it? The swing of their chair made him conscious once more of the lack of a safety bar between him and open air. Beneath them was smooth snow, but sprinkled with suspicious mounds that looked like boulders, and there weren’t many tracks criss-crossing the powder. Not a fun place to fall fifteen feet…

Blue eyes saved him from treading further into that particular dark fantasy by extending her gloved hand. “My name is Anita. What is yours?”

He could barely make his bulky glove shake properly, and it looked ridiculous engulfing the high-grade leather of hers. “Cody. Pleased to meet you!”

“My friend is Giselle. You will please excuse her rudeness. She becomes shy about her English among strangers.” Giselle glanced over, scowled, then returned to staring out over the snow.

More like she has a hard time stopping herself from using her English to cut strangers to shreds… Aloud, he said, “Not a problem. You both have lovely English, from what I’ve heard.”

Anita gave him a smile that could have even thawed the ice queen, had she been looking at it. “Thank you, it is very kind to say.”

“Not at all, it’s just a fact.” Somehow, her smile brightened. Score.

The lift shuddered, and their quiet flight resumed. Icy wetness spattered Cody’s cheek and nose, the flakes of snow falling faster, growing fatter.

“You two must be staying at the lodge over the weekend, I take it,” Cody ventured.

“Yes, three days, actually.”

“Awesome! I’m only here until Sunday. All the time I could get off work. Duty calls after all!”

“Oh? You are an officer?”

“Nah, nothing so official. Just a desk jockey.” He shot her a wink. “Though I have been told I look good in uniform.”

She giggled. Score two. If he kept this up, he might even work his way to a dinner date!

He chatted amiably with Anita throughout the remaining minutes of the ride, and as their chair clattered to the top, he emulated their forward scoots, tucked his skis close together, and with a small hop, slid gracefully free of the chair and into the dismounting area without so much as a wobble.

Yes! Call me skiing pro!

“So, uh…Which run are you doing?” he asked, as the three of them poled up the short slope that led to the start of the runs. There was another lift which would take them to the summit of the mountain, but his two unplanned companions ignored it, so he did the same.

“Viper’s Kiss,” Anita said, nodding toward a narrow opening through a stand of pines as she adjusted her orange-tinted mask over her eyes. A small sign stuck out from the snow at an angle in front of the trees. Double black diamond. Experts only. “It is the only one here with not so many… what is the word? The small hills?

“Moguls.”

“Yes! Moguls. I do not like those so much.”

Cody’s stomach clenched. She said it like it was nothing. On the left, the wide, friendly starting area of the run he’d been planning--a blue route called Vistas--beckoned. Compared to what these two were planning, it might as well have been called, ‘Baby Cradle’.

But… This was his chance! If he backed down, he’d never see these two… well, Anita… for the rest of the weekend, guaranteed. They were already pushing off, gliding toward the expert run.

You’re an idiot. An absolute, pea-brained, think-with-your-dick moron.

He adjusted his own ski mask, then followed, digging in with his poles to catch up. The dying daylight caught the lip of the blue run’s slope as he passed it by, creating a golden shimmer. Follow the yellow brick road to safety, Dorothy, or stray from the path to peril. Evergreen branches brushed at his jacket, as if pleading with him to turn around. He ignored them too, eyes set on the two figures standing at the top of the run.

Snow-plowing to a stop beside them, his stomach performed a fresh set of cartwheels at the sight of the drop. What was that, 80 degrees?! A fraction of the way down, a tight, narrow corner concealed the rest of the run’s hidden traps. People did this for fun?

Giselle looked over at him, one eyebrow arched behind the tint of her mask, lips quirked in an odd half smile, half frown. “You are ready for this?”

Gee, it only takes impending death to break the ice queen’s silence.

“Uh… sure, but, you two are already set, so you go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Giselle shrugged, and Anita gave a nod, with a cheery, “See you at the bottom!” Then, almost in sync, they leaned forward, crouched, and gravity yanked them down at rocket speed. One of them--he had no clue which--let out a war whoop as the pair hit the corner in a matter of seconds, Giselle slightly ahead of Anita like a scarlet banner against the pristine white. Then, they were gone.

Mother of mercy.

Cody looked back. He could still edge back to safety. None of the other skiers and boarders coming off the lift were headed his way. Most were headed to the blue run, with a smaller number making for the summit chair. Of course, if he came out a different run, and Anita waited for him at the bottom, he’d look like an ass. Besides, he could just take it slow, couldn’t he?

No second thoughts. Gritting his teeth, he pushed off.

Three seconds was all it took to regret his decision. The earth plummeted away, his skis shuttling him straight down what felt like a sheer cliff. Too fast, too fast! A yelp escaped him, lost to the wind rushing past, while falling snow battered the exposed bits of his mouth and nose. Bending his knees, he struggled to snowplow, to control the ridiculous, mad speed. The powder was icy, his skis barely making an indent. His stance wobbled, teetering backward as he slowed a fraction, but he managed to straighten, using his calves to keep the braking motion.

Then he hit the corner like an F1 car at full throttle. The world tilted, and somehow, a hidden instinct guided him to lean away from the tilt, his body arching, snow spraying from his skis. He nearly lost a pole, but his death-grip of terror caught the top of it before it flew away into the unknown.

He was through the turn, zipping up a tiny rise that barely cut his speed, and angling for another keyhole opening between towering pines.

I’m doing it! Yes!

His skis left the snow. All sensation of friction vanished, the stomach-lurching weightlessness jerking another yell from his lips. He couldn’t inhale, the wind whipping beneath his coat and stealing his breath. The slope was rising to meet him. He’d managed to straighten his ski tips, and the same gut instinct prompted him to raise his poles and brace.

Back tips first, his skis slammed down with an audible smack. The shudder of impact vibrated up Cody’s entire body. His knees wobbled, the front of his skis veering.

Shit.

Desperate, Cody leaned away from fishtail, but overcorrected, slaloming hard in his original direction. This part of the run was too narrow for much weaving, and the upward-curved lip of the run’s edge was fast approaching. Tucking in his poles, Cody ditched.

His shoulders smacked down first, then his backside, and he tumbled, head over heels. One ski popped off, spiralling away. Sky spun past ground whirling into sky, snow obscuring his vision. Cody shut his eyes, waiting for a painful impact to stop his wipeout. The other ski sprang loose, and he had the presence of mind to try digging in his toes, but the icy hardpack barely let him grip.

One bounce, two. The sickening jolt of freefall. A giant’s hammer on his back that drove the air from his lungs, halting his fall. His body teetered. Blinking open his eyes, a true cliff edge greeted him. Something cracked, grumbled. The ground shifted, sagged, sank. Cody flailed, trying to make purchase on a rock sticking free of the snow, cling to his last hope of safety... His gloves slid off the stone, and he rolled down a sharp grade, low-hanging pine boughs battering his face, arms, legs.

Snow fell with him now, a great mass of flowing powder dislodged by his unruly tumble, the weight of it lending a sense of inevitable doom. The pines shuddered, bearing the assault of onrushing snow, their trunks bouncing Cody about like a pinball. He was mostly upright now, his legs buried in snow, his flailing much akin to a drowning man. A massive pine stood directly in his path, daring the human cannonball to pass. Its weathered, frosty bark rushed toward him, unyielding.

Pain exploded in his nose, the world turning red, blinding white… then black.

 

***

 

“Shutting ‘er down early today, Mik! Starting to look nasty.”

Mik poked his head out from the open door of the lift’s maintenance hut and barked an affirmative. Jackson, his work partner, leaned on the metal fencing near the lift’s entry chute, framed by falling snow and staring up the mountain. Mik followed the man’s gaze--dark clouds bruised the sky, and the steady stream of flakes obscuring the mountain top were made to dance by the same chill wind which ruffled Mik’s mane.

No more skiers lined up for the lift now, the last group having made their trip up at least half an hour earlier. Jackson reached a gloved hand into his coat collar and pulled out his radio microphone.

“Lift four base to summit.”

The radio crackled. “Go ahead base.”

“We’re set to shut down. All clear up there?”

“Clear. Go ahead.”

Replacing the radio, Jackson turned, walked to the control panel attached to the hut, and threw the lift shutdown switch. The constant low rumble and squealing of the running lift slowed, then ceased, a chair entering the turn about rattling and swaying as its momentum ground to a halt. Mik’s ears perked. No matter how used to it he was, that constant drone was still annoying, and the relative quiet of the wind was a welcome change.

“Ready to go warm up, boy?”

“Heck yes. I’m hungry.” In fairness, his involuntarily wagging tail would have been answer enough, but the high-tech collar around his neck which translated Mik’s poké-speech into human words also got the message across. He sauntered out of the maintenance hut, the snowpack crunching beneath his paws, along with a faint sizzle only his sensitive ears would hear, as his natural body heat melted the top layer of flakes.

“Hungry for food, or prettier company than me?” Jackson said, grinning.

“Both. Why do you think I hide in the shed all day? Less time looking at your ugly excuse for a mane.”

Jackson adopted a look of mock offence, stroking his prized beard. “I thought it was so you could nap while I do all the work. Besides, how can you call this ugly? The ladies love it! Much better than that rat’s nest of yours.”

“Believe what you want.” Mik stretched, arching his back and reaching out his front paws. “I saw a few candidates today who look like they would love to run their hands through this masterpiece.” He shook, fluffing his mane, and posed, arching his neck to look down at the human. “Rescue dog, reporting for duty.”

Jackson laughed and gave Mik a playful shove. “I only caught part of that, but enough to confirm what I’ve always known; you’re insufferable. I hate that you’re also right. Come on, let’s get out of here and back to the lodge.”

The approaching swoosh of skis cut through the moan of the wind. Two fast-moving figures in colourful jackets appeared from the swirl of flakes and slid to tight, practiced stops near the lift line, spraying snow against the fencing.

Jackson waved at them. “Sorry folks, lift’s closed!”

The pair exchanged a look, then shoved their poles into the snow, sliding themselves closer. Mik recognized them now, those slender figures; one in red, one in blue. The two foreign girls he’d seen earlier. His tail beat at the air. The taller one was again trying to be discrete about looking at him, but he was a master at catching a sly glance directed his way. His nose quivered, attempting to catch her scent, but they were downwind of him. He’d have to introduce himself, put on a bit of arcanine charm…

“Excuse me,” the one in blue said. “We thought we would have time for another ride.”

“Afraid not.” Jackson shook his head. “Call came in about ten minutes ago to shut it down. Storm’s rolling in. All the other lifts are doing the same as we speak. I’ll need to get you two to head back in.”

“Ah, wait, there is one thing,” the one in red spoke up. “You may wish to send someone to check the Viper’s Kiss. There was a man who took the run, and he did not ski very well.”

“Oh yes,” the one in blue said, a line of worry creasing her forehead. “I do hope he was not injured. We were going to check the run ourselves.”

“Ah hell…” Jackson rubbed his face. “Another newbie taking on that run? In icy conditions no less? Where did you last see him?”

“At the top. We waited for some time at the bottom, but never saw him come down.”

Mik’s tail-wagging ceased. If someone was stuck on Viper’s Kiss, that meant work to be done. It was well known locally for being the most challenging run on the mountain, and only an idiot would try it without adequate experience. But, half of his job was to save idiots from themselves, so…

“Jackson, I think we should get my kit.”

“I agree, buddy.” Jackson was already reaching for his radio. “Thanks for the heads up, ladies. We’ll look into it. Can I get you to head back to the lodge? We need to account for everyone coming out of the park.”

The girl nodded, and the pair turned, expertly keeping their skis apart from each other’s. The one in red glanced back briefly, catching Mik’s eye. Then, both shoved off and swooshed away into the veil of snow. He’d need to find her later. Too bad she didn’t give a name, but they shouldn’t be too hard to find at the lodge. First, he had someone else to find. Whirling about, he trotted back into the hut while Jackson called out on the radio.

“Lift four base to entrance.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve had a report of a possible stuck or off piste on run fifteen. What are the numbers looking like?”

Inside, Mik nosed under the straps of a large pannier, rolling his neck and shoulders until the straps and saddlebags sat comfortably behind his front legs. Jackson would need to secure the buckles, but for now, it hung loose across his back. Prepped and checked daily, the bags contained everything he would need for a rescue--or, at least, the tools to keep a rescuee alive long enough to be evacuated.

“Still got ten guests outstanding… wait, make that seven.”

“Ten-four. Keep me posted. Our team is going to head up and do a sweep.”

“Copy.”

“Lift four summit copies too. Patrol one will search from our end. Are you using the ski-doo?”

“Yeah, but I’ll only be able to make it part way. The grade gets too steep on that run.”

Another voice chimed in. “Patrol two copies. We’ll make our way over, but it’s getting soupy.”

Mik flipped down the four wide snowshoes stacked neatly against the wall, each one designed and sized appropriately for his paws. He slid them towards the door. If they were taking the sled, he wouldn’t wear them yet, but he might need them once Jackson stopped to let him continue on foot. Lastly, he plucked the key for the ski-doo from its peg with his teeth, and trotted out to meet his partner.

“Oh, thanks buddy,” Jackson said, halting his walk toward the hut as Mik emerged. He reached out and accepted the key. “At least you didn’t slobber on it too much.”

“I never slobber. Zip me up, won’t you?”

“Sure thing, princess.” Jackson knelt and began to cinch the straps tight and fasten the buckles.

Mik took a deep breath, held it while the human wrapped the harness beneath his chest, then relaxed. “I’ll let you get away with that only because I know it’s the best you’ve got.”

“Nah, I just don’t like making you feel bad. You get that sad puppy look, and it’s awful.”

Mik snorted. “Maybe I’ll make an exception on the slobbering once or twice. Where do you keep your shoes again?”

Chuckling, Jackson stood, thumping Mik on the haunch. “Sorry. All I heard is panting. You sure that collar’s working? C’mon boy, let’s find this chump and get out of the blizzard. We haven’t had any abomasnows around lately, right?” Scooping up Mik’s snowshoes along the way, he walked around the back of the hut, heading for the parked ski-doo.

“Nope,” Mik said, following. “This storm’s natural, far as I can tell. We’d better find this guy fast if he’s still out there.”

The radio crackled. “Lift four base, this is entrance. We’re down to one unaccounted guest now. Gotta be your guy.”

“Copy that. We’re heading up the run he was last seen on.”

The ski-doo was a longer than average affair, its back-seat extended so that a quadruped--even one of Mik’s size--could ride behind the human driver. Two wells covered trailer skis which he could rest his hind paws on, while sitting on the seat and leaning forward on his front paws. It was an awkward arrangement, but still allowed him to traverse the slope faster than running, usually. The snow hindered his natural speed, particularly with the bulky shoes, though it was still better than having to plow through thick drifts.

Jackson straddled the skidoo, already having his short terrain skis and rescue pack stowed beneath in the carrying compartment. He stuck the key in, turned it, and the machine purred to life with a growl and a spray of snow. Mik clambered on behind Jackson, tucking his tail in tight to keep it away from the whirring tread, and leaned up close to the human, wedging his front paws on either side of his hips.

“Don’t go getting any funny ideas now,” Jackson said, before revving the throttle.

“Not a chance, you’re not my type!” Mik called back over the ensuing roar of the machine. They shot forward, aiming up the slope on a path following the lift. Mik ducked his head down behind Jackson’s shoulder, keeping his face out of the wind. So far, no one had made goggles to fit arcanines, something he’d complained about to the resort management in the past. It couldn’t be that difficult, and the ladies loved accessories.

“What do you think, mid-run?” Jackson shouted over the growl of the engine and the hiss of its skis.

“Depends how poor a skier. Could be right near the top.”

“Probably best if we split. The guys at the summit will take some time to sweep down, and you can search the mid-sections far quicker.”

“Works.” Jackson wouldn’t be able to make any quick progress on his own, but the likelihood of the skier being in the lower half of the run was small if he was actually trapped. The top sections were the most challenging, whereas the bottom half turned into a milder blue run. The skidoo wouldn’t carry them up into the top half, and from there, Mik would be on his paws.

The drive up the mountain assaulted both of them with snow, and the silvery tendrils of fog slithering down from the peak coiled about them and swallowed them whole. Even with his internal fire, Mik felt the chill seeping through his layers of fur. No wonder humans needed to cover themselves with such bulky clothes. Hairless skin in this weather would be a nightmare!

Jackson released the throttle slightly, navigating the slope with more caution than usual, and angling their course away from the lifts. Peering over his shoulder, Mik glimpsed the looming gleam of the steeper slope approaching. The rumble of their engine made the only blemish on the perfect quiet. Normally, Mik loved the muffling effect of snow, even if it did seem like he had cotton in his ears. In this situation though, that blanket was like a shroud of doom if they needed to rescue somebody.

The roar of the ski-doo wound down, coughed, then settled, their momentum braking to a halt as Jackson twisted the handlebars and brought them broadside to the slope.

“Here you go, buddy, this is your stop!”

“You’re not getting a tip. That ride was bumpy.” Mik disentangled his forepaws from the human and hopped off the ski-doo. Immediately, he broke through the top-pack and sunk chest deep into the snow, frigid ice coating his underbelly. Only practice and expectation allowed him to contain the shiver.

“Not a problem, I don’t accept dog treats anyhow.” Leaving the ski-doo idling, Jackson dismounted and pulled out Mik’s snowshoes. Mik raised his right forepaw, allowing the human to fit the shoe over his pad and tighten the collar before moving on to the next paw. Within moments, Mik stood tall on top of the snow once more, his weight distributed over a wider surface.

“Okay,” Jackson said, double-checking his work quickly. Reaching to one of Mik’s packs, he clipped a spare radio onto the strap and switched it on, before stepping back with a nod. “You’re set. Go get’em, boy. You know the drill. I’ll start working my way down from here.”

Mik barked an affirmative, shook once to clear the snow from his fur, and took off, bounding away from his partner up the slope. This segment of the run was easy to rule out--a short, ruler-straight slope that would shoot descending skiers out onto the intersection of runs. Once he made it to the top of this rise, he could begin his search.

His paws churned, hind legs powering him up the steep climb, the serrated teeth of his shoes digging into the snow and affording him purchase. It was hardly graceful--really more a lumbering trot than anything--but it kept him moving and balanced, and still got him up the hill far quicker than a human could manage. His lungs burned with the frigid air, the strain of exertion flowing through his blood and muscles and sparking a sensation of well-being. The ancient instinct to run nipped at his heels, and he felt his tail twitching with the joy of it, even as he focused on the task at hand.

As he reached the top of the slope, the radio crackled. “Lift four base to patrol one, the dog is loose. I’m starting to sweep the lower half. How are things on your end?”

“Nothing so far, base. We’ve barely made headway with this visibility.”

“Copy that. Control, can we light up fifteen please?”

“This is patrol two. We’ve reached the bottom with Peyton. Working our way up.”

Mik’s ear twitched. Peyton, the resort’s other patrol dog, would have been more useful helping him look up here. Timid as the mightyena was, Mik couldn’t fault his nose, and the two of them could make double time in the most likely search area. But, working multiple parts of the run still increased their chances, and not like anyone asked his opinion, despite his perfect rescue record!

Looking up, Mik narrowed his eyes, attempting to pierce the curtain of snow and fog. No obvious disturbances leaped out at him in the twists of the snake-like run. Pines towered up around the sides of the run, and the edges of it were curved and banked to assist skiers with the switchback pattern. Granted, spotting a set of tracks in the dim light was a long shot, even as the mountain’s floodlights came on, slicing the mist and lending a blue glow to the slope. The stands of trees became a mass of shadows, the snow bouncing the light and giving the illusion of a pristine road through a dream.

Right then.

Lowering his head to the snow, Mik began to trot back and forth, gradually sweeping his way upwards. His nose twitched, seeking any scent that didn’t belong amongst the clean wet of ice, the sharp tang of pine, the rich heaviness of forest loam. Every time he reached the edge of the run, he leaned over, looking for displaced snow or broken tree branches, and questing out with a focused Odor Sleuth.

From time to time, he caught a whiff of a burrowed swinub, a passing delibird, and once, even a stalking sneasel. All steered well clear of him (if they even knew he was present) and he passed them by without a second glance. None of the wilds were a danger to their skiers, and they would be foolish to challenge a ‘mon of his typing even if they were so inclined.

Mik had no sense of how long he’d searched. The process was a trained rhythm. Sniff, sweep, sleuth, seek, turn and repeat. Every few minutes, his radio crackled with Jackson and the other searchers checking in with each other. From the sounds of it, neither team was having any luck, and the boys at the top were making far less progress than they normally would due to the conditions.

The cold beneath his paws battled with his natural body heat for the tough skin of his pads. Each step he took ground snow between his toes, and the melting ice seeped away a little bit of his warmth. Typically, he would be fine for hours, but with the battering of the blizzard’s wind and ice, coupled with the vigor of his search, his stamina wouldn’t hold out forever. The run was growing steep again, forcing him to lean into the climb.

Sniff, sweep, sleuth, seek, turn and repeat.

He almost missed it. A blast of freezing wind tore the scent from his nose before he’d quite caught it. Mik jerked to a stop, standing rigid, nostrils quivering. Had it come from the left? No, the wind was on his right flank, which meant…

Turning, he ploughed into the wind, making for the edge of the run, and Odor Sleuthed. There! As faint as a scrap of paper fluttering amongst the blizzard, but definitely real, and human . He leaned over the snowbank, peering through the shadows amongst the pine boughs. He might as well have tried to see through a blindfold, but a few sniffs gave him what he needed. Zest, sticky, sweet, and thick earth. Broken branches, oozing sap, disturbed loam. Among it all, the barest salty-musk of human sweat, ghosting up the escarpment.

Gotcha. Mik barked at the top of his lungs several times, a portion of the sound bouncing back on him with the fog. Cocking an ear, he listened for one breath, two, three… No luck. The guy was either out cold, or too delirious to call out. Not dead though, or the scent wouldn’t be so fresh.

Backing away from the ledge, Mik twisted about, cocked his head to the side, and found the knotted end of twine dangling from one of his saddlebags. He gripped it in his teeth and gave a firm yank. The radio let out a long trill, followed by a quick series of beeps. Emergency broadcast mode. Once every 90 seconds, the signal would pulse, until the radio was switched off and reset.

As soon as the channel re-opened, the device crackled to life once more. “Mik’s got him!” Jackson’s excited call. “A bit over a quarter of the way down.”

“Patrol one copies. Heading to his location. Hang on, Mik. We’ve got to take it a bit slow.”

Mik had no means to respond, but it wasn’t necessary. They would home in on the signal from his collar. The first step of the rescue complete, he turned back to the precipitous edge of the run. It would take at least ten minutes for help to arrive, and in that time, the skier could still freeze to death or suffocate if he was buried. He needed to get down there and pinpoint the guy’s location for the team, as well as work on digging him out.

Mik’s ears flattened as he pondered the challenge of the slope. Without question, getting back up would be near impossible, especially with a passenger. A tow rope might do it, but more likely they’d need to either take the guy further down to a better spot, or bring in the helivac. Of course, both those points were moot if he couldn’t get down in the first place. His shoes would offer him better footing, but given how steep it was, he’d more likely end up in an uncontrolled slide. Not to mention, digging was an impossible task with the shoes.

Bare paws it was then. The snow looked stable enough, a clean run straight over the edge. Squinting, he thought he could even see the faint indent of a pair of skis, right at the tip of a large bulge. Crouching, he caught the the quick-release straps on his shoes one by one with his teeth, snapping open the buckles which held the ankle collars to the shoe. Growling in anticipation, he stepped free.

Poof!

A dusting of snow cascaded over his back, making his immersion almost complete. Sweet Entei but that stung! Here on the edge, he was near up to his neck! The frigid shock burned on his belly, the skin beneath his fur crawling, flashing hot as his body struggled to compensate, and his poor abused junk did its unsettling best to retreat to safety. Shuddering, Mik shook, clearing the snow from his back at the least, and forced his way forward through the drift.

This guy had better be grateful, and Jackson owes me a premium steak!

By ploughing through the snow rather than stepping, Mik could proceed with relative safety, as the pack would support his weight on the way down. Once he got close to the skier, he would use a more delicate approach so as not to further bury his target, but until then…

It wasn’t until his hind legs left the dubious protection offered by the lip of the run that he realized his mistake. His front paws touched a lumpy, frozen hardness beneath the snow--bare rock. At the same moment, a subtle shift trembled through the drifts around him, which had been loosened by his bulldozing. The snowpack creaked.

Well, shit.

The snowfall and wind performed an excellent job at muffling the noise of sliding powder, Mik’s involuntary yelp, and the renewed beeping of his emergency broadcast. He flailed his front paws, nearly swimming through the flowing mini avalanche, keeping his head clear, and staving off impacts with trees by sheer luck as much as training. Pain blossomed in his right haunch, then bruised his left shoulder. A branch whipped him square in the nose, forcing a yip. Scent became a whirling blend of indecipherable mush.

As suddenly as it had begun, the crazy slide halted. Light top powder whizzed by, piling up against the trunks of pines and creating tiny snowballs which poofed back to dust on the first bounce, but the primary flow hadn’t gained the momentum needed for a true avalanche. Mik coughed, blinked snow from his eyes, and took stock. Only his head and one front paw were clear, but with a bit of wiggling, he managed to free his shoulders and look back. He’d fallen maybe twenty or thirty feet? He still had his gear, and aside from some bruises, he’d be fine. In fact, as long as he hadn’t overshot, he might actually be closer to his goal.

Sorry if I buried you, buddy. Taking a deep breath, Mik snorted to clear snow from his nose, and Sleuthed. Odours rushed back in with remarkable clarity, almost as good as a spotlight straight overhead for sensing his immediate surroundings. He cocked his head to the side, homing in on a wispy trail…

There! What luck! He was only a few feet away from where the scent emanated from the snow. Wasting no time, Mik wriggled free of his icy prison, and took two bounding leaps over to the spot, his front paws sinking deep with each landing. Pressing his nose to the pack, he inhaled, pinpointing the aroma.

“Patrol one to Mik, our ETA is two or three minutes. Hang in there.”

Two or three minutes was still too long. Mik began to dig, flinging snow behind him, large front paws churning. The blizzard’s steady moan had become a wailing howl, and even within the trees, the arctic blasts ruffled Mik’s fur and bombarded him with stinging flakes. It didn’t take long to carve a depression in the snow, which he rapidly widened and deepened, the scent of his target growing stronger with every inch. Small dimples and pockets spoke of where the snow had flowed over irregularities, and he’d need to exercise a bit of care and precision now. Swatting the guy in the head wouldn’t help anything. Sniffing, Mik dug with a single paw, scraping the snow aside.

Was that a piece of fabric? Several cautious swipes revealed a gloved hand. More loosened the arm, and led to the tip of a pom-pommed toque.

“Still with us, buddy?” Mik barked at the top of his lungs as he cleared more snow from the trapped man, watching for a twitch or sign of life. Nothing. At some point, the guy had lost his ski mask. His eyes were closed, skin an unhealthy pale. A low growl rumbled in Mik’s throat. He was not losing a mark! Time for the backup plan.

Leaning down, Mik planted a long lick across the guy’s face. Dirt and snow. Ick. But, needs be as needs must. He turned to full on assault, slathering the guy with his tongue. If this didn’t work…

“Stoppit.” A weak mumble. The man’s hand twitched, fumbling for Mik’s muzzle, presumably to push him away.

Another score for the dog.

“No can do, buddy, we’ve gotta get you out of there.” Mik jumped back to work digging, able to move faster now that he could see the man’s body. Within seconds, he had his torso exposed, with the odd lick to the face to keep the delirious skier semi-conscious. The good news was, no sign of frostbite, and while it would take some work to counteract the hypothermia, both he and the team had the tools to manage that.

“Mik! We’re here. How’s our boy?”

Ceasing his efforts, Mik looked up the slope and barked twice. Between the darkness, fog, and snow, he could barely see halfway up the hill, let alone the ski patrol standing at the top. He’d succeeded at the hard part of the rescue, now for the cavalry to swoop in. Except…

Arceus blast it.

The voice on the radio--it might have been Norman, the ski patrol leader--spoke up again. “Mik, listen closely. Bark once for yes, twice for no. Got it?”

Mik barked.

“Good. Now, is he alive?”

Mik barked.

“Excellent. Thank you. Conscious?”

Technically yes, but not enough to move. Mik barked twice.

“Okay, we can work with that. Here’s the situation. As you obviously already found out, this slope is highly unstable. We’re not going to be able to get down there without risking another slide, possibly worse. I doubt you can get back up either.”

Entei’s flaming cock shoved up a…

“Mik, are you able to transport him down the other way?”

Mik snorted, peering down the sharp grade. Getting down there on his own? Probably, though it wasn’t an easy climb, and that was only what he could see. Given that this was ungroomed mountainside, there could be other hazards hidden by the blizzard. Making it with a passenger was not an option.

He barked twice. Trailing the reverberating echo, was that the faint sound of human cursing? Knowing Norman, most likely. From what Mik understood of human speech, and the reactions Norman sometimes caused, the man could swear the ears off the faint of heart.

Seconds later, the radio crackled. “Okay, Mik. I hate to do this to you, bud, but we’ve got no choice. He’ll have to be helivacced, and that’s not happening until this nastiness blows over. You have your full kit?”

Minus his shoes now, which the team should have collected, yes. Mik barked.

“Good. Hole up, keep him warm and breathing. You’re better equipped to do that than anyone else. Think you can manage?”

Mik drew in a deep breath, and barked.

“I’m not going to have to bring a bag with the heli, am I?”

No sir! Mik barked twice. Grim humor, but if this was his challenge, he would seize it by the scruff and teach it who was boss!

“Atta boy. We’ll be in constant contact throughout the night. If you get him conscious, have him check in, alright? And if it goes south… you get your tail back to base ASAP.”

Mik barked. He could picture them turning away, ducking low into the wind, bright yellow jackets fending off the driving snow as they aimed downhill.

Leaving him here to freeze his balls off. Mik glared at the skier, who was mumbling incoherently. “Of course, you couldn’t pick a convenient place to crash off run, could you. Had to land yourself in the most difficult terrain, in the middle of a darkrai cursed blizzard, and on an unstable slope.”

Rumbling low in his throat, Mik set to work, digging with renewed fervor and purpose. Complaining wasn’t helping the situation, but at least it made him feel a bit better. His paws catapulted snow away in a steady stream, turning the initial depression into a channel, then a chute, then a shaft.

He left the immediate area around the skier alone for now, until he had his sloping entry in place. Then, he started on making space around the guy, occasionally shoving snow with his shoulder to pack in a wall, and ensuring to toss the waste snow up on the edge of the gradual hollow he carved out. In record time, he had a sizable space cleared, and with a few quick swipes and a bit of pulling with his teeth, he managed to dust off the skier’s body and pull him completely free of the pack. The guy shifted, eyelids fluttering, and groaned.

“Hang in there, nearly set.”

Reaching down, Mik fumbled several times before seizing the quick release strap of his saddlebags in his teeth. Tugging it took another significant effort. The thing was meant to stay fastened, but was he starting to get sluggish? If so, he was in need of this shelter almost as much as his skier friend.

Finally, after precious moments of worrying at the strap, there was a faint click! The bags slid free, dropping into the snow. Mik wasted no time pulling the left one open, its velcro flap designed for even a canine to use. Most of the space inside was filled with heavy blue canvas. Grabbing hold of a corner, Mik dragged it out, the tarp unravelling behind him like a cape, and set it aside for the time being.

Deciding speed took place over caution now, Mik dumped the contents of the lightened bag out onto the tamped down snow. A second sheet unrolled from the confines, this one bearing a reflective surface on both sides, with a thin padding in the middle. Mik spread it out, managing to cover almost the entire floor of the half-built hut, and dragged the human onto it. The man groaned, reaching up for something or other, but still didn’t wake fully. Flipping an edge of the heat blanket over his charge, Mik rolled him over, wrapping him neatly, burrito-style, within the blanket’s protection.

The next bit was a bit trickier. Trotting out of the hollow, Mik circled around the sides he’d built up, smoothing and shoring with his paws until he made a passable wall curving partly over the hollow. The blizzard railed, frustrating his efforts by blowing snow in his face or collapsing small sections of his barrier.

Well, screw you too.

Narrowing his eyes, Mik let loose two quick, narrow jets of flame, flicking them mere inches above the surface of the wall. The flash heating melted the top layers of snow, hardening it into a solid sheet of ice. Circling the makeshift structure, Mik repeated the process several more times, carefully adding more snow on each pass, until finally only a hole about a foot wide remained at the top. Mik shook, freeing loose snow from his fur, and inspected his handiwork. Unbidden, his tail twitched. Not bad, for working off memory of his training from several years ago. Without human hands, making a proper roof was impossible. However…

Ducking back into the entrance, Mik tugged the tarp free, and pulled it loosely over the dome of his little igloo. It wasn’t much, but it would trap heat, which was all they needed.

Wind snapped, invisible fangs catching the free corners of the tarp and attempting to tear it from his grasp. He snarled defiance at it, sinking his fangs in deep and bracing. No! Not when he was this close!

Mine!

The gale whined back, gave one last, sharp tug, and subsided. Mik grinned around his mouthful, and rushed to set the piece in place. A bit of fiddling had it sitting relatively flush and covering the majority of the dome. Before the wind could try again, he scooped snow onto the tarp’s corners and blasted flame, freezing it solidly into place.

The exertion had him panting, but now, he could get out of this mess. There was no question; his inner flame was guttering, a leaden weight accompanying each step. Mik shuffled to the entry tunnel, and wiggled his way inside.

Oh, thank moltres for heat.

Well, not really heat, but at least a lack of sub-zero winds trying their best to punch holes in him, and an immediately noticeable difference simply from the warmed air of his flames, and the weak body heat of the human lying within the protection of the hut. It was a start, and it was about to get better.

His radio crackled. “Patrol checking in with Mik.” Jackson’s voice now. “If your companion can answer, have him take the radio. If not, good luck, buddy. We’re all rooting for you.”

Working on it. After he raised the temperature in here a bit, he could start reviving the skier enough to have him assist with the process.

With the immediate need for shelter taken care of, Mik unrolled the human from his cocoon, flattening the reflecting blanket down to bounce Mik’s natural heat back at him, along with the human’s small contribution. Next, he rummaged in the other bag until he found a heavy black sphere attached to a base, roughly the size of a softball. Picking it up in his teeth, he placed it on top of the blanket as close to the entrance as possible, then depressed a pair of buttons on either side of the base.

Fzzz-shnick!

Immediately, the black sphere began to glow within its core. The specifics of it escaped Mik, but the one-use heat lamps were great for supplying a short-term wave of warmth. Waves of glorious heat radiated from the black sphere, along with a weak purple light to break up the cave-dark. Mik had to stomp down the powerful urge to curl up on the thing, sucking all that energy back into himself.

More sealed bags, bottles, and cases tumbled out onto the blanket as Mik upended his kit. A small packet of berries he tore open, devouring several. A sour aspear went down like a brick, but its mysterious juices worked their magic, beating back the cold threatening to grip his limbs. A couple of sitrus, and his inner flame roared back to life with a vengeance.

Oh yeah, now we’re set.

Moving to his motionless companion, Mik stretched out, lying fully on top of the human, though careful to keep his weight from resting on the man’s chest. Not much good warming him if he couldn’t breathe, and his training partners always made such a fuss when they’d conducted this exercise. Rumbling deep in his chest, Mik stoked his inner flame, building up a Fire fang, but holding it on the brink of release. One breath, two, three... With nowhere else to go, the trapped heat dissipated, turning his body into a furry radiator, and pouring warmth into the hut.

Mik exhaled warm air, and studied his charge from inches away. From what he could tell, the guy was maybe a few years younger than Jackson, by human reckoning. Not surprising. It was nearly always the younger males who managed to get themselves into these predicaments. The top of his jacket zipper hung open, and dampness soaked into Mik’s chest from the human’s clothing. That was a hypothermia special, and another reason to appreciate having fur and his inner flame.

Okay buddy, I didn’t come here to watch you sleep. The guy was starting to shiver, which was a good sign--his body was coming out of its near-frozen state. Mik set to judiciously bathing his face, ensuring his warm breath heated his nose and ears. If there was a more tried and true method than this, he hadn’t yet found it. Soon, the human began to stir, mumbling and weakly trying to push him away. Mik kept at it until the guy’s eyelids fluttered.

“Wh-huh?”

“Hey there, sunshine. Wake up call. Arcanine rescue, here to save the day.”

The human’s eyes focused on him, widened, and a choked gasp escaped his swollen lips. He tried to pull away, but only succeeded in wiggling slightly.

“Relax, princess. I’m here to help. Drink some of this.” Mik swiped a bottle of water from the mess of items dumped from his kit, and nudged it towards the man. “Rehydrate, then we’ll start getting you properly warmed up.”

“I… uhh… where…” The man coughed, shook his head.

“Shut up and drink. We can chat after.” Mik pushed the bottle against the guy’s chest with a bit more force. Disorientation was to be expected, but humans always beat around the bush with pointless questions!

“T-thanks-s-s.” Teeth chattering, the human fumbled with the cap for several moments, before finally managing to unscrew it. The top quarter of the bottle splashed uselessly onto the blanket and the man’s face, but he finally got it to his lips and downed almost half the remainder before Mik stopped him with a paw on his hands.

“Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick if you drink too fast.”

The guy nodded, coughed again, and looked up at Mik with something akin to focus in his eyes. “W-what’s g-going on? Who a-are you? T-talking p-pokémon?”

“Translator collar.” Mik tilted his head to the side to show off the equipment. “You crashed off a ski run and were buried in an avalanche. Name’s Mik, and I’m the resort’s rescue expert, lucky for you. Not so lucky for you, the team can’t extract you until morning, so we’re stuck here for the time being, which means we’ve got to get you warm and dry.”

“Didn’t get all of t-tha-at. B-but warm a-and dry s-sounds n-nice.”

“Sure. Now, off with those clothes.”

The man stared at Mik. “Huh?!”

“Did my translator stutter? Clothes. Off. Now.”

“B-but-”

“They’re wet, and wet clothes can kill you, even with me here. Don’t make me do it for you.”

“O-okay…” Reaching for his jacket zipper, the human began the slow process of trying to manipulate small objects with shaking limbs. Mik lay still, assisting by continuing to echo the space heater’s radiant glow, and keeping a lid on his impatience. His chest fur was beginning to itch, soaked through as it was now, and he would be happy to dry it once this guy ditched his damp gear.

“You have a name, or should I just call you ‘guy’?”

“C-cody.”

He’d managed to free himself from the jacket, and Mik lifted off him enough to allow him to peel away his sweater. “Alright, Cody, here’s the deal. I’m going to do what it takes to keep you alive until this storm clears up and we can evacuate in the helicopter. Your part of the deal is to trust me and do as I say. No ifs, ands, or buts. Got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good. I’m going to step off you now.” Cody had worked down to his t-shirt, which was plastered to his pale skin, much like the wrappers humans spitefully put on the tastiest foods, solely to keep dogs from enjoying them. “You’re going to be cold at first, but that will only be for a minute. Don’t stop what you’re doing.”

Cody yelped as soon as Mik moved away, the renewed bite of chill strengthening his shivers. But, true to his word, he got rid of his t-shirt and began working on his boots. Meanwhile, Mik built up another fire fang, stoking his heat as high as he could manage before dissipating the energy. The wave of hot air instantly dried his chest fur, frizzing it out.

Better. He pawed about in the remnants of his once neatly packed kit, sorting out what they would need. The big thermos he rolled next to Cody, who was now struggling to wiggle out of the snow pants. He ignored the temptation to chow down on another sitrus berry. It would be hours before rescue, and he only had another three to tide him over. Thankfully, the human hadn’t been injured, so the small first-aid kit wouldn’t be needed. Not that Mik could use anything inside it regardless. He tossed the flares to the side with it. The team knew where they were, and could home in on his collar’s transmitter if needed. Another bottle of water joined the thermos, along with a portable lamp, and a sealed package containing a hat, gloves, and socks.

“O-ok-kay.”

Mik glanced up. The human looked ridiculous, shivering in nothing but his underwear, hands clamped about his chest. Mik waved a paw at him. “Those come off too.”

“N-no wa-”

Mik growled. “That wasn’t a request. If it’s wet, it comes off, and don’t tell me those aren’t.”

“I-”

“You think I care what your dick looks like?”

“N-no…”

“Well then?!”

Slowly, Cody reached down and peeled the wet garment off. He started to cover himself with his hands as soon as he’d kicked it away, but Mik’s exasperated snarl snapped them back to hugging his chest. Arceus, Why did they always have to get sulky at this part?

“Good. Now lie back down on the blanket. With those off, you’ll actually be able to absorb heat.”

Cody did as instructed, though he wore a frown, and immediately curled up into a ball. Mik’s ears flattened, but he draped himself over the human once again, covering as much of the man’s body as possible. It felt like cuddling up to a block of ice, but he wouldn’t whine about it!

“Get those dry things on, and pull the corner of the blanket over both of us.” Of course, Cody had to uncurl himself to accomplish the task, avoiding Mik’s eyes the entire time as he attempted to open the package of clothing. After a few moments of watching his fiddling, Mik finally grabbed a corner in his jaws and tore it open, dumping the articles on Cody’s chest.

“T-thanks.” Cody muttered, pulling on the gloves and hat. The socks took a bit more wiggling and maneuvering, and Mik allowed him the space to do so while attempting to maintain as much warmth as possible. Mik grunted as the human kneed him in the belly several times, but gave no comment. Finally, Cody managed to tug the blanket until it folded over the pair of them, wrapping them in a cocoon of reflected heat.

“Better?” Mik asked.

“Yeah… It actually i-is.” The chattering in the human’s teeth had at last slowed, only the odd shiver wracking his body.

“Told ya. We’re not done yet though. We need to raise your core temp back up too. See that flask? Take it and have a few sips. Careful though, it’s hot.”

Cody gingerly unscrewed the flask’s cap, loosing a cloud of steam and the rich scent of broth. Tilting it to his lips, he showed the sense to blow into the flask for several seconds before swallowing any of the liquid, his throat bobbing in several swigs. Mik’s nose quivered. What he wouldn’t give for some of the resort’s mountain chinook stew...

Before Cody could lift the flask again, Mik placed a paw on his elbow. “Enough. You need to save that to get you through the night. Take a little every half hour or so. See that heater?” Cody’s gaze followed Mik’s nod over to the portable, which was already beginning to dim. “It’s good for a quick burst, but it loses power fast. That’s where I come in to help keep you warm, but you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Cody nodded. “So you’re like, my living electric blanket or something?”

“Pure fire, sport.”

“I didn’t mean-”
“I know.” Mik snorted. “What, I’m not allowed to have a sense of humour?”

“I’ve never exactly had a conversation with a pokémon before.”

“First time for everything.”

“I guess.” Cody glanced away, clutching the flask tight with both hands. “And uh… thanks for digging me out.”

“Don’t mention it. Have another sip, then close it up.” The human’s cheeks were flushed, and the hairless form tucked beneath Mik’s belly radiated a faint aura of heat once more. The immediate danger was behind them.

Once the flask of stew was stoppered, Mik said, “There’s a radio on my harness. Know how to use one?”

“Just press the button to talk, right?”

“Yes. The team is waiting on an update, and the radio doesn’t pick up my collar very well, so you’ll have to call them and let them know.”

“Okay.” Cody reached up, fiddling with the device until he managed to unclip it and bring it to his mouth. The receiver beeped as he pressed the button. “Um, hello?”

Seconds later, the radio hissed. “Ski patrol here, who’s this?”

“Uhh, this is Cody. I’m here with umm…” he glanced up at Mik.

“Forgot already? It’s Mik.”

“Sorry… With Mik. We’re stuck out here.”

A moment of silence, then a new voice. “Cody, good to hear from you bud. You’re okay? Any injuries?”

“A bit sore, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

“Excellent. This is Norman, I’m the patrol leader. I’m sure Mik’s filled you in already, but in case he hasn’t, the situation is that you guys are going to have to hole up until this storm passes. We can’t get you out of there until then. But, don’t worry, you make sure you listen to Mik, and you’ll be fine. Clear?”

“I guess so. I…” Cody glanced up at Mik, appeared to think better of what he was going to say. “He’s helping keep me warm at the moment.”

“Good. He’s a cocky bastard, but he knows what he’s doing.” Mik snorted. He was not! Confidence wasn’t conceit. Even still, his tail stirred at the compliment. Norman was sparse with them at best. “...just sit tight and relax.” Norman continued. “We’ll check in later.”

“Got it.” Cody laid the radio to the side and adjusted a corner of the blanket which had shifted. “What now?”

“We wait. I’d suggest getting comfy. We’re going to be here for a few hours at best.”

Mik could only make out the barest outline of the human’s face in the dimming glow. He nodded to the electric lantern. “Feel free to give us some light if you want. That we don’t need to save.”

“You can’t see in the dark?”

“I don’t need to, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to dump hot soup on yourself.”

Cody snorted, and reached out to click on the lantern. Warm yellow light burst free, reflected from the icy walls. Starbursts dazzled Mik’s vision until he blinked them away.

“So that’s what you look like,” Cody said.

“More or less than you expected?”

“Neither. I’ve never been this close to an arcanine. Well… or many pokémon at all really.”

“Sad. We’re rather charming. You’ve lead a sheltered life.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “And humble I see. So, what, you’re owned by the resort?”

A growl rattled in Mik’s throat, his upper lip curling. Cody’s sharp intake of breath and crawling stink of fear cut it short. “No one owns me, pup. I work here. I like what I do, and I’m damn good at it. Never lost a mark.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You did, but it’s okay, I get it. A lot of humans think of us as beasts, or worse, pets. You can stop thinking I might eat you. That would be a waste of my effort so far in saving your hide.”

“I’m not-”

Mik fixed him with a level look. Cody’s mouth snapped shut.

“The nose doesn’t lie, pup.”

The rapid thump-th-thump of the human’s heart reverberated against his chest and in his ears, but it gradually began to slow.

“You’ve always been a rescue dog then?” Cody asked after another moment.

“More or less. My mother was the previous ski patrol leader’s partner, and I started training when I was a pup.” His ears twitched. “I could leave if I wanted, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather go.”

Cody nodded. “You’ve never left the resort then?”

“A few times. Went to Sinnoh once with my partner for a training session. The odd trip to another resort. We’re one of the leaders in skier safety, y’know?” The human shook his head. “Gone on supply runs into town, among other things.”

“Other things?”

Mik rumbled in amusement, his tail flicking side to side briefly. “That curious? There’s a breeder in town, and the boss doesn’t object to me paying a visit now and again. There’s a ninetales there that-”

Cody waved a hand frantically in front of Mik’s nose. “Too much information, thanks! I’ve always enjoyed travelling myself. Couldn’t bear to be stuck in one place the whole time. I like trying new things.” He glanced down, wiggled a bit, his knees dragging against Mick’s belly. “Mind moving a bit?”

Mik obliged, lifting slightly on his paws, allowing the human to squirm about, until he reached whatever position seemed suitable to him and settled back.

“Better?” Mik asked, lowering lightly onto his belly once more.

“Yeah, uh…” Cody glanced down, his cheeks darkening. “You were kinda poking my leg.”

Mik’s ear twitched. “Your own fault for wiggling around like that, and asking what I do in my spare time. Consider it your punishment for going out of bounds.”

“Not like I did it on purpose! That hill was insane.”

“So why did you try it? The runs are marked for a reason.”

Cody groaned. “I’ll admit, it was dumb. I’m a beginner still. But, there were these girls I was talking to, and they went down… I’m sure you know how it is.”

Mik smirked. “Sorry, can’t say I’ve ever had to risk my tail to impress the ladies. A bit of rescue dog charm usually does the trick.”

“Sure.” Cody rolled his eyes. “Falling all over you, are they?”

“You might be surprised. I think I saw those girls you were chasing, and one of them was checking me out. When we’re out of here, I can show you how it’s done if you like.” He chuckled. “Though, I think you might lack some of the needed attributes.”

“Pass. That’s another image I can do without.” Despite his bravado, the human’s lips adopted the curl Mik had learned to associate with sulking. Wasn’t his fault if a human female had good taste! Not that he preferred humans to his own kind, or other species of pokémon, even, but they did have the ability to do things no pokémon could, which made the experience something… special. Like that woman from Johto several months back, when she’d-

“Do you mind?” Cody was glaring at him, and wiggling again. “I don’t want to know what’s going through your head, but if you could refrain from poking me, I’d appreciate it.”

Mik’s ears twitched. If this one had a strong suit, it was probably whining. “Deal with it. If it helps, it’s not you.”
“It doesn’t!” Grumbling, Cody snatched up the water bottle and the flask, taking a generous pull from each.

Mik huffed a sigh. “I told you, go easy on those. You need that soup to last the night. You’re still recovering, and it’s cold enough even in here that your core temp will drop again without a regular supply of something hot.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The space heater’s warmth no more than a ghost, Mik’s inner flame remained the only ward against the chill. “Best for both of us to try and nap. Preserve as much heat as possible.” The rigors of his rescue effort were beginning to catch up to him, now that the rush had worn off, and Mik’s body felt twice its usual weight.

Cody nodded, clicked off the lantern, tucked his hands under the blanket, laid back and stared at the ceiling of the hut. “Works for me.”

Petulant as he was, at least the human could follow directions well enough. Settling down with his head on Cody’s shoulder, Mik’s eyes drifted gradually closed.

 

***

 

Hunting the elusive sleep monster, Cody reflected, was all well and good in principle. He’d managed to find it in weird places before; a bus stop bench, a crowded shopping mall… If it was only the dull ache in pretty much everywhere from his epic crash, he would be fine. It wasn’t the frigid chill nipping at his exposed face either. Not even the gurgling of his belly, which the constant gulps of the salty broth had tamed somewhat, would have typically prevented it.

But something about having a giant fire-breathing dog that probably weighed a ton lying on top of you, that was the proverbial tip over the edge. Grateful as he was for the heat the arcanine provided, he couldn’t shake the unsettling instinct born of being so close to a large, dangerous creature. Even if he could speak. Not to mention the utter vulnerability of being buck naked beneath said creature. Every time Cody’s eyes fluttered open after a fitful few minutes, in the near pitch darkness, the hot breath of the fire dog tickled his face, bringing back the image of those glittering fangs peeking out from a maw that could probably snap his neck with little more than a thought.

Clicking on the lamp once more, Cody swiped up the soup flask, popped the top, put it to his lips and tilted it back. A meagre few droplets dribbled to his tongue, still warm. He shook the flask. Nothing.

Dammit. He hadn’t monitored what was left very closely. Each time he’d jerked awake (seven, eight times? More?) another swallow of soup had been there to cure the creeping ice that snuck past the barriers of blanket and Mik. Tossing the flask, he took a sip of water instead. That, at least, he still had half a bottle of, but it was fucking cold!

The black tips of the dog’s ears twitched, a heavy puff of toasty air escaping him in his sleep. At least one of them was managing to rest. Should he wake him up and tell him the soup was gone? No, he’d already played the fool enough today. Let the dog sleep. Besides, Mik would probably be annoyed, and that wasn’t something he felt like dealing with. He’d manage.

Scrunching down beneath his living and artificial blankets, Cody wriggled about, seeking a more comfortable position under his rescuer. It didn’t help matters that no matter what he did, his legs would fall asleep, and the numbness in his toes felt far too close to frostbite for comfort.

His shin slid across something hot, soft, and springy.

He twitched back, as though burned, and scowled up at the slumbering pokémon. Of course, the only spot which offered marginal relief, had him playing footsie with the canine’s junk! Despite the odd luxury of plush fur against his skin, it was not worth being in close quarters, naked, with another male, even one of a different species. Perhaps especially one of a different species.

The arcanine stirred, shifted in his sleep, a soft purr-like noise rumbling in his throat. A heavy paw rested on Cody’s forehead, slid down his cheek; almost like a lover’s caress. He tried not to squirm. Of its own accord, his body was deciding to respond to the rubbing of soft fur against sensitive regions. That wasn’t where he needed blood to go, dammit!

Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up. His face was probably red as a beet. Mik settled, the fluffy flag of his tail flicking in some dream. Something firm and wet kissed Cody’s knee. Eww…

He wiggled his leg away from the molestation zone. Dogs had never been his favourite, and this experience was only fortifying that opinion. Outside their hut, the wind howled like a wandering demon. How long was it until morning? Five hours? The storm had to clear by then, if not sooner.

Scrunching down as small as he could, Cody delicately pushed Mik’s paw away from his face, and squeezed his eyes shut. Thinking too much about it would only make the ordeal seem longer. He just needed to calm his mind, and…

 

***

 

Whenever he next woke, it was to chattering teeth and icy blue eyes glaring down at him from inches away. Their blanket lay slightly askew, one corner laying open, and icy tendrils wicked away precious body heat. Cody found he was hugging his chest tightly, as if trying to stop his own shivers.

“You drank all the soup already,” Mik said, the flat statement punctuated with a growl.

“W-what? C-close the door, will you?” Cody pried a gloved hand free and snatched the blanket edge, dragging it back down over the pair of them. It served to cut the flow of frigid air away from his lower body, but didn’t bring back the warmth he’d lost.

“Don’t lie. I can smell that it’s gone. You barely saved it at all!”

Cody couldn’t meet that piercing bestial gaze. It seemed to pick him apart piece by piece, and expose every weakness he had. “Y-yeah, okay, so I did. And n-now I’m c-cold again. You were right, a-and you told me s-so.”

Mik’s growl ratcheted up a notch. The arcanine wouldn’t harm him, would he? Cody raised his hands slightly, in the vain hope that covering his face might help. Not like it would change being at Mik’s mercy, but at least it felt like defiance.

As though reading his mind, Mik said, “I told you I won’t growl-rrrr hurt you, even if you are rruff! Arrr, fool pup!” Some of the words came through the translator as nothing but static, but the message was clear enough.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t-”

“Not as rrrcane! As you will be! Hope you’re not overly fond of having all your rrruff and toes. The cold doesn’t care if you’re stupid, and this isn’t a game!”

Great, as if he needed to feel shittier than he already did. “I k-know, and I messed up. I dunno w-what else to say.”

The radio crackled, startling both of them. “Patrol to Cody and Mik, come in. Do you copy?”

Reaching out from the warmth of the blanket felt like ripping off a bandage. Cody seized the radio and hurriedly drew it under the cover and up to his mouth. “Uh, y-yes, we’re here.” On further thought, he grabbed the lantern and clicked it on, momentarily dazzling himself, but at least it had the effect of turning Mik from a looming, threatening shadow, back to a clearly pissed off--but otherwise ordinary--arcanine.

“Good. What’s your status? Everything okay?”

He thumbed the transmit button. “Yeah.”

“No it ISN’T!” Mik exploded, bared fangs glittering in lantern light. “Tell them what happened!”

“W-what good will that do?” Cody shot back. “They can’t g-get to us right now, you s-said it yourself!”

“Glad to hear it,” the voice over the radio came back. “Storm is still going strong out there, but forecast has it clearing up about four hours from now. You just need to hold out a little longer, alright?”

Mik’s snarls were incoherent noise as far as the translator was concerned, but Cody figured they probably didn’t program in pokémon cursing. Or maybe the thing just couldn’t pick up words as well when the arcanine wasn’t speaking clearly. It didn’t matter, he was right about this! He’d already been stupid, and he wouldn’t make the patrollers risk themselves because of it. He could make it. Hopefully.

“You copy that, Cody?”

Once the arcanine’s outburst settled, he pressed the transmit button again. “Y-yeah, I did. Thanks.”

“Stay safe.”

The radio fell silent again, leaving Cody and Mik to glare at each other in peace. The arcanine’s ears lay flat against his skull, his lips curled back, showing razor sharp fangs as long as Cody’s pinky. He started to speak, then thought better of it. Having his throat torn out would be a heck of a lot faster than freezing to death, if it came to that, but he’d prefer to avoid either.

Finally, Mik relaxed with a final huffing grumble and a shake of his head. “I can’t quite tell,” he said, the translation coming through crystal clear, “if you have a death wish, or if you’re just an idiot.”

“Definitely m-more the ‘idiot’ option, yeah.” Despite himself, Cody laughed, nearly hiccuping through the shivers.

“Good. Either makes my job harder, but ‘idiot’ is simpler to deal with.” The dog rolled his shoulders, stretching out slightly, ruffling the blanket. “You’re right that we have to solve this here.”

Ha! Score one for him! Let the insufferable canine put that in his proverbial pipe to smoke!

“If you’re going to survive this, we need to get more hot liquid in you.”

“N-no argument h-here, but…” Cody nodded at the empty flask lying a few feet away. “Unless you’re h-hiding another of those, we’re c-clean out.”

“That’s…” Mik glanced away, his ears flattening. “Not completely true.”

“You h-have another flask?”

“No! Arrrr rufff! Entei’s beard, you’re dense. There’s a way to get a hot drink for you, but, it’s gonna require us to become real good friends.”

Cody stared at him. Did he mean boiling water? The arcanine might be able to do that with his fire breath, but they didn’t have the means to contain it, and besides, he’d heard that required a lot of energy in sub-zero temperatures. And why would that mean they were becoming friends?

Unless…

No way. The dog couldn’t possibly be expecting him to do that. “You don’t mean…”

“Yup. Arcanine biology, pup. Our cum stays hot when it’s not exposed to the air.”

Good on the programmers for including that word.

“Helps it last inside the bitch.” Mik was continuing, as if this were a casual conversation about restaurant preferences. “My arrrruffff is hot enough to help sustain you, but only if you get busy, and soon. Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

“Y-yes! Dying of hypothermia.”

“Not happening. I don’t care if you’re arrrcane, I’ve got a reputation to keep, and I’m not sacrificing my perfect rescue record because you’re scared of a blowjob. Besides, you said you liked to try new things.”

Blowjob also made the dictionary. Nice. “T-there’s s-some limits to that! Not wanting a d-dick in my mouth doesn’t m-mean I’m scared of a blowjob. I’m j-just not g-gay, nor curious! And if I were, you are far from the first person I’d try it with.”

“Do I look like I give a shit? Though, if it’d make it less rrrfff, I could always get it into you another way.”

“Hell no!”

“You really think you could stop me? It’d still keep you warm.”

“I…” Cody’s stomach clenched. He wouldn’t, would he? “T-that’s not the point! You’d be raping me!”

“Good samaritan law, pup. As long as my actions are in good arrrcanine to to keep you alive, it’s solid, and trust me, my team would back me up on this one. Alive and unable to sit comfy for a while is better than dead.”

“Says you. ”

“Pick your poison then! I have all night, but you sure don’t. If it makes you feel better, you’re hardly my first choice for quality time with my junk. There’s a few females back at the lodge who I’d much rather be spending time with, rather than rescuing your miserable ass.”

Cody scowled, searching for an appropriate response, but none seemed forthcoming. If only he knew a little more about survival stuff. Weren’t there some crazy cures for frostbite? Boiling berries and pine needles, or burying oneself in snow? Not that he had any of the former, and the latter seemed like a last resort considering his current circumstance, but anything was better than what Mik was proposing.

“Well?” The arcanine demanded, those icy blues boring holes in Cody’s skull. “What’s it going to be? Unpleasant for both of us, or just you? There is no option three.”

“T-that guy was right,” Cody said. “You are a cocky bastard.”

Mik grunted. “He also said you should listen to me to survive.”

He hated to admit it, but the argument had merit. This was far too absurd to be a con for the dog to get his rocks off. The voice on the other side of the radio had been adamant that Mik was his key to survival, and that meant…

Butterfrees flapping madly in his stomach, he jabbed a finger at Mik. “N-no one else hears of this, g-got it?”

“Sure thing, pup.” The arcanine stood, towering over Cody, the blanket trailing off his back like a silver cape. He nodded down between his forelegs.

 

Somehow, Cody didn’t feel reassured. Cold air swirled in through the gap left in the blanket’s absence, turning the space beneath the fire dog into the only warm real-estate available.

Ugh. When I get out of this, I’m sticking to green runs forever.

 

***

 

The shivering human took his sweet time wiggling around and crawling headfirst under Mik’s belly, pale backside jiggling as he squirmed into position, finally leaving just his feet poking out. He had to give the guy credit--despite displaying incredible idiocy, he was a fighter when it came to survival. If nothing else, the recent turn of events would keep the rest of the night interesting. Not to mention, this would make a heck of a story for some of his female companions. ‘I once saved someone’s life with my cock, you know’.

“S-so, um, I’ve never done this before,” Cody said, his voice slightly muffled from below.

“No shit. I’d be surprised if you had. Start by rolling over. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“N-nothing could make me more c-comfortable right now, except maybe a h-helicopter.” Despite the retort, the pair of socked feet between Mik’s paws rotated upward.

Mik chuckled. “Just remember, this is your own fault. How’s the view?”

“S-shut up. You s-smell like wet dog, you know.”

“Glorious? Yeah, I know. I think you’d get along well with my patrol partner. Same poor sense of humor.”

The human made one of those pffft sounds they used to show disdain. “Can we get this over with?”

“Waiting on you, pup. It’s not going to suck itself.” Males weren’t exactly his thing, but a mouth was a mouth, and the dance of cold air on the peeking tip of Mik’s shaft did little to quell the growing rush of anticipation.

A tentative gloved finger poked his sheath, then instantly retreated as it twitched in response. A muffled noise from Cody, perhaps surprise. Yes, pup, it’s the real thing. Mik stifled a growl of frustration. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d coached a human in how to treat his sensitive bits, but honestly. His nostrils wiggled, scenting the sour roiling mix of fear, shame, disgust. Almost enough to completely hide a hint of arousal. Interesting.

“My teeth are up here, princess, and it’s not going to burn you.”

“D-don’t r-rush me.” Another wary brush, this time tracing the hanging weight of his balls, sliding across the turgid surface. It wandered up to his sheath, briefly hitching at the bump of his uninflated knot at the base, then coursing down, circling the exposed tip, and finally whisking across the available inch of flesh. Coarse fibres lit off sharp bolts of fire up Mik’s shaft, making him wince.

“Gloves off, now. You’re not going anywhere near my dick with those.”

“S-sorry.” Cloth rustled, and seconds later, the familiar sensation of a human palm closed about the middle of his sheath, offering an apologetic squeeze. Mik’s tail flicked. Damn, there was something about those fingers! The way a human hand could wrap and grasp in surprising places... even hesitant, inexperienced handling like this brought his blood up.

“At least it’s k-keeping my hand warm.”

“What’d I tell you? Keep going, pup, I’m sure you have an idea of how to work one of these.”

The hand tightened around the middle of his length, and began to pump in rough, sporadic jerks as if trying to uproot his poor maleness. Mik exhaled, a wide cloud of mist expanding into the cold. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but…

“Is that how you get yourself off? Moltres’ fire, pup, are humans numb down there as well as in the nose? Do it properly, or I will resort to… let’s call it, ‘alternative care’.”

The wild jerking ceased. “Okay, sorry, geez! This is j-just so… weird.”

“Dog up and deal with it.”

Cody’s grip shifted, gently massaging up and down Mik’s shaft, his fingers unable to wrap around all the way. Mik held as still as possible, allowing the human to explore and coax more of his pride free of its home. Pressure tightened around his knot, the bulb growing inside his sheath with his arousal, primal instincts begging for him to thrust thrust thrust!

“H-how’s that?”

“Mmm, now you’re getting the idea! See? I knew you could figure it out.”

Cody snorted. “J-just tell me how to get you off.”

“Fine. A bit more work near the base. Canines are the opposite of humans. We’re most sensitive down there.”

The sporadic massage firmed into a grasp, lightly sliding Mik’s sheath up and down his length, tingles of pleasure spiking whenever it bumped his confined knot. The cool air mattered little compared to the human’s delicate attentions, which were gradually teasing inches of red flesh free. One benefit to doing this with another male, even an inexperienced one--they knew how to handle a cock! His shaft jumped, pulsed, aching for that final push into freedom. Which. Was. So. Close!

Growling, Mik twitched his hips, meeting Cody’s half-hearted jacking and plunging into his grip. A small gasp from the human, coupled with a reflexive squeeze, right in that glorious sweet spot around his newly exposed knot. Mik shuddered, sighed, revelling in the relief of hanging free at last, and the trembling skin clasping his sensitive bulge. His shaft quivered, tensed. A heated spurt of pre escaped, and, judging by Cody’s indignant sputter, scored a perfect mark. Mik chuckled.

“Shouldn’t waste that.”

“Yeah…” The grasp on his knot squeezed, shifted, circling around the bulb. The second hand joined the first, gripping and working the shaft from tip to base as though measuring. Mik rumbled, sensation lighting up in a blaze.

“Impressed?”

“S-should I be?”

“It’s a pretty typical reaction.” Mik grinned, picturing the human’s eye-roll. He had every right to be proud of himself! Then again, the human was likely a bit jealous. Mik inhaled, sampling the mixture of scents clinging to the sharp air. The sour stench had nearly vanished, leaving spicy musk, mixed with wavering uncertainty, and several others too faint and mingled to identify.

“Think I can’t tell you’re into this a little?”

The grip on his cock faltered, questing hands encircling the girth of his shaft and coaxing another spurt of pre. “N-not really, b-but h-hard not to be a bit t-turned on, I g-guess.” A finger trailed down, kissing the angled taper of his tip.

“Easy there, that’s--rrrrr--tender.”

“O-okay.” The touch slid back upward, one hand working his length, the other squeezing his knot. Ecstasy. Mik purred, his cock jumping, hips quivering with the urge to ram himself home into an inviting bitch.

“I-I s-suppose t-this isn’t so bad. T-the noises you make are k-kinda fun.”

“I’m getting a bit tired of your noises. Care to fix that?” It might have come through as little more than a growl, but Mik was beyond caring. No matter what happened now, he was answering this need.

“I’m n-not really s-sure.”

“You’ve come this far. I’ll coach you.”

A deep gulp of air. The grip on his pulsing rod fluttered and danced, teasing pinpricks of pleasure into Mik’s system, then settled, holding his maleness steady by the base. A warm puff of air tickled his tip, retreated, returned. Something soft and wet kissed the point of his taper, catching a droplet of pre.

“Blech. Salty and b-bitter. What do you eat? ”

“No one’s complained before.”

“I was t-taught not to put strange things in my m-mouth. I dunno where that thing’s been.”

“Want a brief history?”

“No!”

A jolt of his hips brought a satisfying sputter and indignant squawk. Well worth the shivering unpleasantness of cold skin sliding across his heated flesh. “Quit stalling, princess. My patience is wearing thin.” He lowered his hinds slightly, proffering himself.

The human’s shudder vibrated through the grip on his twitching shaft. “H-hang on.” Cody’s feet moved, and Mik glanced down between his forelegs to see the human scrambling up onto hands and knees, gaining a better angle on his target, despite the difference in their heights. Exposing his rump in a clear ‘presenting’ pose had likely been unintentional, but the, sight brought a wag to Mik’s tail. Certain things were missing, of course--the alluring scent of aroused female, the unspoken invitation of swollen nether lips, the ‘come hither, stud’ look over the shoulder…

Still. Human backside wasn’t bad to look at in his book.Rapid breaths ghosted across his length, teasing, coaxing. Wet muscle glanced across the end of Mik’s cock, sampling. The hand wrapped around his base squeezed, rhythmic pulses, earning more bubbles of pre to coat that questing tongue. Delightful bursts flared through Mik’s nerves, the exquisite teasing of those padded lips across his tip, coupled with the gentle pressure of flat, pebbled tongue gracing sensitive flesh…

He tilted his head back, loosing a growl--a primal declaration of intent and enjoyment. Another benefit of humans: they made up for their lack of fangs by making other use of their maws! But, Cody’s ministrations had faltered, kissing, but not engulfing, wetting, but not suckling.

Pleasant, but far too slow. For lack of anywhere else to grip, Mik hunched, dropping a forepaw on that upraised rear.

“Open up.”

 

***

 

So far, it hadn’t been as horrible as he’d thought. Not that he had ever wanted to handle someone else’s dick. Let alone a dog’s dick. The thing was… bizarre. Red, slimy, irregularly shaped from that massive bulge to the arrowhead tip. Not to mention the damn size of it. Had to be ten inches long, minimum, and that wasn’t counting the monstrous bulge at the base. How could anyone--any thing-- handle that?!

Still, there was a certain pleasure in having a modicum of control over such a large, powerful creature. The soft chuffs and pants the dog made, the jerks, twitches, shudders… and the inherent eroticism of intimate proximity. Moreover, the heat radiating from the red, pulsing flesh blazed through his fingers, and the spurts of bitter liquid he’d… experienced… had verified Mik’s claims. Even cooled, the trail of sensation marked across his cheek stood out against the otherwise icy skin. He couldn’t deny the stark realization, much as it made him inwardly squirm: this was his ticket.

The moment the weight of the arcanine’s paw rested on his ass, Cody knew what was coming. Instinct screamed for him to jerk away, but through a combination of forcing it down and pure indecisive freezing, he merely braced for the inevitable.

Which didn’t prevent the gag when the thing rammed past his lips, crushing his frozen nose up into the Arcanine’s belly-fur. He coughed, gurgled, panicking at the sudden lack of air as his mouth filled with thick, slippery cock. Hot, briny fluid leaked onto his tongue, coated the back of his throat. His eyes watered, musk and the heavy tang of dog filled his nose, overloaded his senses.

Mik wasn’t moving, he realized, giving him a moment to acclimatize himself. Short, barking chuffs escaped the canine, which the collar failed to translate, but which needed no interpretation. Cody fumed.

“Not funny,” he tried to say, though it came out as a garbled mess. Pulling free, a wet pop sounded as the tip bounced past his lips. A shiver rolled down his spine as he caught a glimpse of a dangling fluid thread briefly joining the tip to his mouth, before snapping and vanishing. He worked his jaw, already feeling an ache from the stretch.

“Has its charms,” Mik said. The paw on Cody’s rear flexed, pinprick claws indenting the vulnerable flesh. “Hope you’re not thinking to stop there.”

“No, just give me a second, dammit!” Cody glared at the cock, viewing it less as an object of desire, and more as a challenge. He would get this insufferable canine off, and he would take his share, and he would survive this! That did not mean he had to enjoy it!

Even if you are, a little? A small voice whispered in his mind. He stamped it down, hard.

Leaning forward, he met the spaded tip with his lips, rolling his tongue beneath it and guiding it inside, careful to avoid his teeth. The heat of it filled his mouth, inches sliding in until the narrow head kissed his throat. From what he’d remembered of the--god, was it really only once ?--he’d been given head, the key was pressure and motion more so than suction. He swallowed, clearing the urge to gag, and was rewarded by a grunt from the arcanine.

“That’s it. Use your hands on my knot, and you’ll get what you’re after pretty quick.”

The overwhelming presence of the huge shaft made it difficult to focus. He could only presume that ‘knot’ meant the huge lump at the base. Mik had certainly reacted sharply when he’d explored it previously. Needing one hand for balance, he reached up, seizing the bulge again, barely wrapping halfway around. Mik’s cock jumped, steaming bitter-brine squirting across the back of Cody’s tongue, trickling down his throat.

At least it isn’t scalding. My kingdom for some mouthwash though.

Settling his rapid breathing, Cody bobbed his head, sliding his lips across the slippery surface of the shaft, getting a feel for the curve and taper. Odd, how… connected this brought him to the dog. Every shudder, shift of paws, and grunt of pleasure registered in Cody’s mind, the canine’s appreciation expressed through the swish of that fluffy tail, and the flex of his fuzzy paw on Cody’s backside. He could only accommodate a few inches, maybe half of the veiny, crimson shaft, up to the point where its girth bulged in the middle. But, coupled with the massaging of Mik’s ‘knot’ it seemed good enough for now. He was only in this to get what he needed after all, he was hardly trying to swallow the thing!

Aiming the shaft, Cody tried a new angle, tilting his head to the side and running his tongue across a new area. Mik groaned, his dangling balls twitching. It seemed to matter less where Cody applied pressure, so much as the degree. His jaw was adjusting to the stretch, allowing him to wrap his lips tighter and work his tongue with a bit more creativity. Sloppy smacks and slurps matched his efforts, warming his cheeks even more than the heated liquid. Did dogs enjoy having their balls played with? He wasn’t willing to let go of his guiding grip on Mik’s shaft to find out, but maybe he would before the night was over.

Wait, he wasn’t seriously thinking of doing this again, was he? As though in response, his own untouched length flexed, embarrassingly hard and crying out for attention. Okay, maybe it was a little hot. Even if only for the taboo novelty of it. Just need that drink, dammit! Rather incredible how quickly the stuff worked, those potent spurts marking a line of heat from his oral efforts to his belly. Suckling on the very tip of the thick rod had a strangely soothing effect--something to do with the rhythmic motion, paired with the seductive heat lulling him. Of course, he hadn’t managed to push Mik over the edge yet, which might have meant he was terrible at giving head… or perhaps the arcanine simply had incredible endurance. Either way, he’d need to step up his game to get this over with.

Mercifully, the arcanine didn’t thrust again, though his quivers indicated a barely controlled urge. The odd twitch, hunching into his hand and bottoming out in a heartbeat, but Cody was learning to predict those, bobbing with the motion and controlling his gag reflex. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle the inevitable forceful battering if Mik didn’t possess such self control. Leaking pre coated his tongue, throat, taking over his tastebuds with its sticky essence. His movement quickened, matching the heavy panting from above.

Gimme my… damn… hot drink!

After this, he would need to take care of himself--it was hardly fair, the pokémon being the only one of them to get off on this blasted mountain. Maybe he could even convince Mik to lend him a hand--tongue? Fair was fair, right? And it might be fun, even if it was from a dog. Bump up that count from ‘one’ to ‘two’ at least. Or maybe he was desperate. Rolling his eyes at his own patheticness, he applied a bit more suction, playing his tongue along the underside of Mik’s shaft.

“Rrrf. Just about… Grab behind… the knot!”

A spur of defiance held Cody back. His own little revenge for the dog’s cockiness. He could keep him on the brink for a little longer, tease the powerful creature, continue to edge him-

Claws dimpling the back of his thigh shattered the train of thought. Or, he could close this out.

Shifting his hand up, encircling the small hidden root behind the massive bulge, he squeezed.

Mik let out a howl, his body stiffening, hips shuddering. Those substantial balls twitched, drawing tight. The mighty forepaw shoved Cody forward, his yelp muffled by the extra inch of cock sinking past his lips, forcing the spaded head into his throat. Turgid flesh throbbed, pulsed against Cody’s tongue, announcing the rush of cream before it spattered directly into his throat.

He could barely hold on, all sense of control fluttering in the wind as the arcanine snarled, gyrating his hips, pumping him full with heavy spurts of hot, runny seed. Cody couldn’t breathe--it was like being locked onto a fountain turned on full blast! Burst after burst boiled down his throat, pouring a liquid gold heat directly into his belly. He felt it settle, radiating a glorious warmth through his core, and though the flow slowed from the initial torrent, it kept coming!

Holy shit!

Desperate for air, Cody yanked back with noisy pop! Mental faculties scattered as they were, he managed to keep the tip between his lips, heated cream fountaining across his tongue, filling his mouth with its heavy brine in seconds. He swallowed reflexively, welcoming the warmth if not the bitter aftertaste. More quickly replaced the load, forcing him to keep gulping, until he couldn’t manage any further and he let go, collapsing onto his hands, chest heaving.

His throat felt raw, abused. Coherent thought bubbled on the edge of the shock and awe, a curious detached awareness replacing intelligence while his mind struggled to catch up. Heated droplets splattered across his back. His stomach gurgled and sloshed with the heavy liquid load he’d just swallowed. The burning musk of sex filled his nose. Breathing hard, Cody shook himself, clearing the fuzz, and rolled back onto his heels. Mik’s crimson maleness bobbed and twitched, still fully hard and dripping, shiny and slick with saliva. His saliva.

More of those soft, huffing chuckles. Cody turned, meeting the sapphire gaze of the pokémon, whose muzzle split in a panting canine grin.

“Good job. Didn’t bark! you to be so eager for it.”

Cody groaned inwardly. He couldn’t deny that he had been, at the end. But that didn’t mean he had to admit it. “More like you were trying to choke me on it!” His voice came out as a rasp, and he reached out to snag the discarded water bottle, unscrewed the top and took a swig, swishing his mouth thoroughly before swallowing. His entire mouth felt sticky, and he the dried spurts of… that... on his cheek itched.

“Took it like a champ. Feel better?”

Another swallow of water helped clear some of the lingering tackiness, but the bitter-salt savour lingered. Cody grimaced. “You weren’t lying about the heat. Feels like I swallowed a whole pot of soup, straight from the stove.” Tendrils of the glow were radiating through him, chasing back the frigid ice threatening to claim his extremities. Flexing his fingers to work the bloodflow, Cody slipped the gloves back on and laid back down on his side, refusing to meet the arcanine’s eyes.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it. That should last you an hour or so, at least.”

Cody froze, mid-stretch. “An hour? ”

“You didn’t honestly think one ruff! would do it? Arcanines are good, pup, but not that good. If we’re stuck here that long, you’ll need another before we’re out of here.” No question, the dog was wearing a smirk, even as he settled overtop of Cody, once more blanketing him in fluffy warmth to match the heat inside him.

“Of course, if you prefer, we could try my other-”

“Not a chance,” Cody groaned, rolling onto his back to allow the arcanine to cover him. His stomach gurgled. “You got your rocks off just fine the other way, and that’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Suit yourself. You sure didn’t seem to mind all that much.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “You are one cocky son of a bitch.”

Mik huffed a laugh. “Thanks!” Leaning down, he dragged his tongue across Cody’s forehead, leaving a wet, cooling trail. His voice lowered to a purr. “Those little rrrrfff sounds you made… Wouldn’t mind hearing that again. Say, in an hour?” His hot breath warmed Cody’s face, muting the rush of heat to his cheeks.

Heaving a sigh, Cody pushed Mik’s grinning muzzle away, and rubbed at the sticky slime on his forehead. The dog’s flavour lingered on his lips, and he couldn’t shake the odd… satisfaction of the pool of heat in his belly. But, the canine was insufferable! When he got out of this, he was going to make sure to steer far away from arcanines.

Or maybe look at training one of his own.

 

***

 

Mornings on the mountain were always rather impressive, but never more so than after a storm. Every surface lay pristine, covered in a dazzling new coat of snow, even the pines well-cloaked. Sunlight poured over it all, lending the scene a gilded gleam. But, most of all, the smell! Mik couldn’t get enough of the clean, wintry fresh filling his nose.

Even if the air was whipped into a frenzy by the whirling blades of the rescue chopper overhead.

The storm had let off shortly before sunrise, and help had arrived for Cody and Mik shortly after, the team dropping down from the sky and digging them free of Mik’s improvised hut.

Standing beside Jackson, Mik observed as the patrol team, kitted out with snowshoes, finished strapping Cody into the chopper’s hoist. The human was once more bundled up, swaddled in blankets more securely than a cherrim’s cloak on a cloudy day. Yet, as he was lifted slowly into the air, he still was able to look over at Mik, and give a nod, coupled with a, ‘don’t say a word ’ glare.

Mik barked in return. His muscles ached, and his mind felt fuzzy from the broken sleep, but nothing a good nap wouldn’t cure. All in all, the night had been interesting. Not an experience he’d repeat, but certainly not one he’d forget. Who knew the kid had it in him to take three loads like that?

Jackson’s hand fell on Mik’s shoulder, awarding him with a heavy pat. “You did good out there, buddy. At the worst, he’s got some areas of second degree frostbite, and should recover fully within a few weeks. He owes you, and so do we. Was it a bad night? You look a bit ragged.”

Mik chuckled, watching the paramedics reel Cody in through the metal bird’s belly. “I’ll live. He did a pretty good job making up for his end of the deal. I’m thinking tonight’s a premium steak night though, don’t you?” He glanced at his partner, tail wagging. “Y’know, since I’ve been such a good dog.”

“You’re terrible, actually, but you’re also right.” Jackson stroked his beard. “And I’m sure I heard Norman say something about a steak he’d been saving in the fridge…”

“Nice try. Even I wouldn’t try stealing his food.”

Jackson sighed, shrugging. “Drat. Guess I’ll have to beg for a small loan from the boss then, given the imperative need to reward our good dog. By the way, care to explain what you mean about him ‘making up for it’, and why he stank so much of wet dog?”

“Don’t think too hard on it. I did my job, that’s all.” The chopper began to pull up, adjusting course, and arrowing away towards town. “And there’s nothing wrong with smelling like dog!”

“Right, sure. You’re still taking a bath today.” Ruffling Mik’s mane, Jackson turned, joining the other patrollers who were starting the trek back to the lodge. “C’mon buddy, let’s go home.”

With an affirmative bark, Mik bounded after him through the snow.