Marshmallows and the Snow [Sweet Snacks: 1] by Liza Kay Page B

feathery ass still dry, probably digesting your latest snack, while it is poor little me whose feet and balls are freezing off down here. So quit with the bitching.”
    The owl’s narrowed gaze sent an unpleasant feeling through Ruben’s body. Uh-oh. Its assessing stare probably meant it was trying to find the best spots to gnaw on as soon as the cold had finished him.
    “Sorry, I honestly didn’t mean to piss you off. As a matter of fact, I admire owls. You’re... big and scary and beautiful. And kinda deadly, you know.” Ruben sighed and failed to huddle deeper into his jacket. “Ignore me, okay? Me talking to an annoyed owl means I’ve lost my marbles because of the cold and the fucking dead-end situation I’m currently in. Could you maybe promise to wait with eating me till I’m dead? I guess that beak of yours hurts like a bitch and I think I really deserve a calm death.” Ruben shivered hard. The owl seemed interested enough in the conversation, so he kept on talking.
    “Somewhere I read freezing to death feels like falling asleep.” He huffed. “This statement proves that you can never trust so-called experts. Whoever wrote that has probably never been in a freezing-to-death situation. Because I’ll tell you, I don’t feel remotely sleepy and calm.”
    The owl shu-huued. Ruben, sure that its reply was meant as an agreement, smiled. “Good owl. See? Now we understand each other.” It flapped its huge, elegant wings again, turning its head to the right. Huh. Maybe it’d sensed another snack under the snow? Ruben hoped not. After their nice conversation, he was fairly sure it wouldn’t attack him and pick out his eyes. He enjoyed its company and talking to it beat arguing with Toby. Big time. Ruben scowled up at it.
    “Don’t even think of leaving me. It’s not nice to abandon a dying man,” he admonished. Fortunately, the owl remained on its branch however, kept staring straight into the same direction. It was a bit unnerving. Was something dangerous waiting for him between the trees? Something with sharp teeth and claws that would love to eat Ruben?
    He shivered harder, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “What is it? Do you see something? You could give me a hint, you know?”
    Crap. Maybe this was the right time to learn the art of tree climbing. The branches were low enough. The sole question was if Ruben had enough strength left in his frozen hands to, indeed, climb. And he remembered reading that bears were able to climb. Climbing would merely help him in case it was a wolf lurking somewhere. Given the frozen, numb state of his body, he’d probably fall down and onto his scrawny ass. No, thanks.
    Suddenly, the owl spread its wings again and took off, sailing a short distance before coming to rest on the next branch. Ruben cursed, following it with his gaze.
    Without rational reason, Ruben’s body followed it, too. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was the cold fogging his brain. But they continued this little game five more times. When Ruben considered giving up and calling himself officially crazy, he saw it.
    A cabin. Ruben sobbed, part of relief, part of exhaustion. He didn’t see any light in the windows but Ruben didn’t care. In fact, it’d be better if the cabin were unoccupied. He didn’t want to deal with anybody in his current state—namely rumpled, frozen, and heartbroken. Collecting the last of his strength, which wasn’t that much, he gave his feathery companion a thankful nod and scrambled toward the cabin.
    He desperately needed to change out of those wet clothes and find something warm to wrap around himself before he caught pneumonia. With its chimney and the wood, chopped and neatly stacked along one outer wall, the cabin looked promising.
    Ruben grabbed the handrail with numb fingers, dragging himself up the four necessary steps, and probed the handle. When Ruben pushed at the unexpectedly well maintained and unlocked door, it gave way immediately. He literally