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~ Feril, stepping out of his car into the cold Winter night, counted the luck he'd found. He'd just managed to coast his car to a stop at what appeared to be the rusted out remains of a gas station long since given up for dust. The husk of a building stood defiant against the scrubland; the only structure likely to be seen even in full daylight. The source of light he'd seen during his string of pleadings and prayers while directing his imminently powerless vehicle turned out to be a small campfire. Amid the soft howl of the wind, a gryphon sitting next to it beckoned him over. From this distance, Feril could not make out any of her markings but it was only a moment's pause before the coyote remembered that the grandfather who'd taught him of such things was a racist old fool who's opinions were best left to forwarded emails and the moments before a pregnant pause at dinners.

~ Once he got downwind of the station, the coyote quickly realized just how the gryphon had managed to both start and maintain a campfire against the stiff winds. He settled into the offered lawnchair which looked to have been pilfered from the back room of the unattended gas station. It all managed to smell faintly of pine oil cleaner. The coyote inquired, "Hey, lucky we crossed paths. What's got you out to a place this remote?"

~ The gryphon let out a deep chuckle, "Shirking my job, and avoiding the task thereof. You?" She offered him a battered plastic mug, and filled it with coffee from the percolator atop the fire. As he accepted the gift, Feril noticed the gryphon's well worn tent and banged up motorcycle nearby. He wasn't sure how he'd missed these details earlier.

~ Thankful for something hot to hold onto, the coyote decided to keep his summary brief. There was an assumed deal between them; his story for the drink. And he wanted the hot drink inside of him, where it was already starting to feel a bit chilled. "Well, my friend about an hour West from here is expecting me to arrive for lunch tomorrow, but I decided to surprise her and arrive before breakfast. But my car's klunked out on me already." He took a sip, and then a gulp of coffee. The gryphon was nodding attentively, waiting for him to resume.

~ Feril continued, "And, well, I don't want to wake her up at this hour.", the gryphon began to frown, "..and so I'd just sleep in my car and call in the morning. She'll be able to come get me and drive back in time for our lunch plans." The coyote began to realize that the gryphon was frowning, and his confidence in his plans began to weaken as he sipped more of his coffee.

~ The gryphon was practically grimmacing as she inquired, "What about the weather?"

~ The coyote let out a nervous laugh, "Er.. well, the radio was the first thing to go as my car went all Frozo-slog on me." His ears were now nervously perked, and he offered out his empty cup to the gryphon again. The cold seemed to be getting harder to keep at bay, with the wind a muffled howl around the station and their impromtu camp. Despite her stern frown, the gryphon refilled his cup.

~ She looked up into the night sky for a moment, "I think you should leave a voicemail.", flatly into the night. She could have just as easily been speaking to the stars as much to the coyote, though he was already rummaging his pocket for the phone with one hand while the other gripped the mug.

~ Resting the mug on his lap, the coyote fumbled with his phone and left a stammering voicemail for his friend. Part way through the message, the gryphon volunteered a proper address for him to provide. Feril also apologized for the trouble his poorly laid plans had wrought. As his attention turned back to the coffee and its consumption, he noticed the gryphon had taken to a smile as warm as the wind was cold. By the time he'd finished with this mug, the gryphon had retreated to her tent for the night and the coyote to the driver's seat of his car.

~ The coyote woke up to his cell phone calmly reporting the absence of signal, several missed calls, and the presence of a text message from his friend warning him to wait there for the snow plow she'd sent. Out in the heavy snow, he couldn't find any sign of the gryphon or her belongings. Feet firmly planted where her motorcycle had stood, Feril didn't dally too much before concluding that whatever plans she had were best left to her concerns. His car wasn't too much warmer than the howl of snow and wind, but it provided shelter from wet and blow and should prove sufficient until the arrival of the dispatched plow.