The snowy plains stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by patches of snow-dusted pines. Scribbles, a soft-coated chowling with fur so unique it could be written on, shivered as a cold gust blew past. He adjusted his scarf—a cozy knit covered in doodles from his favorite markers—and glanced at his companion, Snowball.
Snowball was practically bouncing with excitement. A white chowling with fur so fluffy he looked like a walking snowdrift, he was grinning despite the dire situation. “Okay, Scribbles,” Snowball said, “here’s the plan: We get close to Brinicle, I pelt him with snowballs, and then—poof—problem solved!”
Scribbles raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Snowball, Brinicle is freezing everything in his path. You really think snowballs will do the trick?”
Snowball shrugged, scooping up a pawful of snow. “Hey, they’re melting when they hit him. That’s gotta mean something! Besides, he’s not evil—just really, really upset.”
Scribbles sighed, his breath puffing into the frosty air. He knew Snowball had a point. Brinicle wasn’t bad—just misunderstood. Still, the icy chaos left in his wake was dangerous. Trees frozen solid toppled over with loud cracks, critters scampered frantically for shelter, and the icy ocean nearby groaned as chunks of its surface shattered under Brinicle’s fury.
“What if we can’t calm him down?” Scribbles asked, pulling out a bright green marker.
“We will,” Snowball said confidently. “You’re the best at coming up with creative ideas, Scribbles! That fur of yours has never let us down.”
Scribbles chuckled nervously but nodded. He glanced toward the distant forest, where the sounds of destruction echoed louder with each passing moment.
They found Brinicle near the treeline, a towering chowling with jagged, frosty fur that glittered like shards of broken ice. His eyes burned with an icy blue light, and frost trailed behind him with every step. Scribbles gulped. Brinicle looked even more terrifying up close.
Snowball didn’t hesitate. “Hey, big guy!” he called, hurling a snowball at Brinicle’s back.
The snowball hit and instantly melted, sending up a puff of steam. Brinicle stopped and turned, his freezing gaze locking onto the pair. Scribbles felt his heart skip a beat.
“Great job getting his attention,” Scribbles muttered.
Snowball grinned. “Now it’s your turn.”
Taking a deep breath, Scribbles uncapped his green marker and started drawing on his own fur. Bright green vines snaked across his side, curling into leafy patterns. He added a few red berries for flair. “Alright, let’s see if he’ll follow me,” Scribbles whispered, stepping forward.
“Hey, Brinicle!” he called, his voice steady despite the icy chill creeping toward him. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
Brinicle let out a low growl, his frosty breath swirling in the air. Then, with a thundering stomp, he started after Scribbles.
“Run!” Snowball yelled.
Scribbles dashed toward the forest, his paws kicking up flurries of snow. He could feel Brinicle’s icy presence behind him, but he didn’t dare look back. Instead, he grabbed a blue marker from his pouch and scribbled snowflakes onto his legs as he ran, leaving a sparkling trail behind.
As they neared a clearing, Snowball darted ahead. He’d spent the morning digging a pit in the snow and filling it with the fluffiest, softest snow he could find. Now, all Scribbles had to do was lead Brinicle into it.
“Almost there!” Scribbles panted, his breath forming clouds in the freezing air.
Brinicle roared, his icy fury growing stronger. Scribbles could feel the chill nipping at his tail. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his red marker and scrawled bright, fiery shapes across his back, hoping the warmth of the colors might distract Brinicle even more.
Finally, Scribbles reached the edge of the pit. He skidded to a stop, turned, and faced Brinicle, his fur a chaotic canvas of bright doodles. “Come on, big guy!” he called, waving his paws.
Brinicle lunged, his frosty claws scraping the ground. But as he charged, the snow beneath him gave way, and he tumbled into the pit.
Snowball popped up from behind a tree, cheering. “We did it!”
Scribbles peered over the edge of the pit. Brinicle lay in the soft snow, his icy aura starting to fade. The cold blue light in his eyes softened, and his heavy breaths sent puffs of steam into the air.
“Is he... calming down?” Scribbles asked.
Snowball nodded, tossing another snowball into the pit. “See? Told you snowballs work. The soft snow is cooling him off without hurting him.”
Scribbles sighed in relief, collapsing onto the snowy ground. “That was way too close.”
Brinicle let out a low rumble, lifting his massive head to look at them. His eyes, now a gentle shade of blue, seemed almost grateful.
“Guess he just needed to chill out,” Snowball said with a grin.
Scribbles groaned. “Really? A pun right now?”
Snowball laughed, plopping down beside him. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? You were amazing, Scribbles. Those drawings of yours were the perfect distraction.”
Scribbles smiled, his fur now a colorful, messy masterpiece. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”
Snowball nodded. “The best. Now, let’s see if we can make friends before he decides to go berserk again.”
