“Cold,” Argus mumbled, and let the snow freeze upon his facial fur. Winter seemed to grow longer and longer every year, the few hours of daylight insufficient to counter the creeping shadows that crossed his path.
Life wasn’t easy when no one believed in the Yeti anymore. He’d tried everything. Online dating, bars, coffeeshops, even book clubs at the library. Nothing had worked. Not a single real interaction. No one had even looked up from their phones, most laughing and reacting to things other invisible people said elsewhere.
“It’s like I’m literally invisible,” he snarled, and let the wind whip into his eyes until his vision blurred.
“Don’t exaggerate.” The voice was a hissing whisper, half-lost in the wind.
Argus jerked back so fast, his beard snapped off with a crystalline tinkle, barely heard over the howling storm. “Who’s there?”
“Casper.” The voice came from a different direction, still a low whisper.
Argus gulped as he turned, unused to the nervous sensation in his stomach. “You don’t sound like a friendly ghost.”
A nip at his ankle, but when he looked, there was nothing there but the wisp of a blur. “Ghost,” the voice purred, and the flick of something against his knee. “Ghost cat.“
“Better a ghost cat than alone,” Angus mused.
A flicker of spots and thick fur, pressed up against him, warmth against the ice and chaos. “Even better if you have something to eat.”
***
This week, I picked up a spare prompt over at More Odds Than Ends: A snow leopard came across a yeti. I couldn’t shake the idea of a pet snow leopard, because what better pairing than a yeti?
