Bigby Wolf

“Ugh...winter.” Ever since the Exodus and every fable that left the Homelands, Bigby hated winter. He enjoyed it before, considering his thick coat kept him warm. But in New York it barely snows. And when it does, the cars and people walking the streets end up turning everything into ice and brown sludge the next day. The city is still loud, it’s gross, and without Bigby being able to walk around in his winter coat, it’s cold. He stood outside your apartment door, hands shoved tightly into his pockets as he waited for you to come out. He’d only been waiting a minute, but it still felt like an eternity to him and his patience was unnaturally and quickly wearing thin. When the clicks of the door opening rang in his ears, his head instantly perked up. “Hey.” You wave almost as soon as you see him. “Sorry, but can I come in?”