Four

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(Unedited)Animal pelts lay neatly folded on the floor of the room when he woke, and an aching chill touched his nose

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(Unedited)
Animal pelts lay neatly folded on the floor of the room when he woke, and an aching chill touched his nose. He was colder now than when he had fallen asleep before, every open area of his skin was cold to the touch. He coughed, his breath clouded in front of his face and he rubbed his shoulders to try and spread warmth. He was sure that his hair had frozen during the night's freeze. He swung his feet over the edge of the hammock and reached for the pelts that had been laid out for him.

He picked one up that had long white fur and wrapped it around his shoulders. It provided more warmth than he originally thought and the end of it brushed the ground as he walked. He pushed open the door of the room and went down the stairs and out the front door. A fresh layer over snow covered the ground in front of him and a crisp breeze licked his cheek and tickled his neck.

He followed the smell of food and soon saw the gathering of every other Glader under the eating tent. His stomach growled in anticipation, overpowering the cold that touched his feet. He found Chuck quickly and sat down beside him, he noticed just about everyone was covered in some kind of animal pelt. Chuck eyed him as he sat and turned back to his bowl.

"Where did you get that?" Chuck asked quietly.

"What?"

"The pelt, slinthead." Chuck said, his eyes darted around the group of people nearest to them. Thomas looked around too, and noticed nobody else wore a pelt of pure white like his own.

"The uh-Homestead." Thomas replied, causing Chuck to roll his eyes. He was wearing his own pelt of long black fur with brown tips.

"Yeah, right." Chuck rolled his eyes and picked up his bowl, he nodded his head in the opposite direction for Thomas to follow and he did clutching the bowl tightly in his hand. Chuck lead him under some nearby trees and to an abandoned log sat upright, the area around it hadn't been burdened with the nights snow. Chuck sat his bowl on the top of the log and Thomas sat across from him, doing the same.

"Why'd you drag me out here, Chuck." Thomas asked, sipping at the hot soup.

"That's Newt's pelt." He said, his eyes peered over the edge of his bowl at Thomas knowingly.

"No-"

"Yes it is. He's the only one who has one like it." Thomas took a bite of his soup, taking the time to try and come up with an answer.

"So?" The best he could come up with, good job, Thomas.

"So, everyone's going to be talking about it. You know how the girls are." Thomas really didn't know how girls were, but he turned his head back in the direction of the eating tent. "You didn't see everyone staring at you at breakfast?"

"Uh, no Chuck I didn't. I was too busy fearing the life of my toes." This caused Chuck to smile.

"What would they even need to talk about anyway? So what if I wear his pelt?"

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