It had been a pretty good Christmas, Billy and Joe's first on the island. And inside their small cabin a fire was burning warmly in the fireplace, and the heavy red curtains on the window had been parted to show the falling snow outside. Billy sat on the floor by the fire, playing with the latest edition to their family: a small white puppy, with
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It was dark out, but King managed to find his way pretty well. He had been through the area so many times now that all the snow or darkness wasn't much of an obstacle. The huts turned cabins had helped as well, as most of them were lit up from the inside, providing mini lights of guidance along the way.
When he'd gotten to Joe and Billy's cabin, he lingered for another couple minutes outside of the door before he eventually knocked. It was cold out, but he hardly felt it. Maybe no one was home.
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Going to the door, Joe watched the puppy for a moment longer, grinning as she pranced to the door with him, then pulled it open to find King standing in he snow. Sometimes it was still so fucking weird to see a guy who looked so much like him standing in front of him, but mostly he'd grown used to it.
"Hey," he said, stepping back to let him in. "Merry Christmas and all that usual bullshit."
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