Murdoch looked up at him as if he had committed a crime. Pink tongue and jowls spilled out to enjoy the wintry air. Not gonna happen dude!
“He’s constipated,” Michael whined.
“No,” Mom shook her head, “He’s just being a fuzzy butt,”
“Fuzzy butt,” he mocked. She nodded primly.
The dog, disgruntled by his owners, snorted and plodded away. He was a dark shape of knee height until Michael lit the area with his Maglite. It was no different from the other oak, pines, maple, and beech. The small clearing they had found was pinned with grass just above his ankles. Needles were strewn carelessly about and were dark under the moonlight.
Every now and then a leaf poisoned by autumn would fall. It was impossible not to make any noise. The underbrush was tight knit around the base of those trees and spiraling in uneven quarters of earth. Soft gurgling came about from a nearby creek. He couldn’t see it. The light still only penetrated at least fifty feet through the darkness.
It was fifty feet too close to potential death. He looked towards the distant streetlamp in longing. Crickets were chiming rapidly to keep warm. Puffs of grey steam lifted about before him at each breath. His hands felt as if they were acquiring lizard skin in the cold air. “Hurry up Doc,” he called out to the dog.
Did you notice the environment? I did something wrong though. As I understand it the north (New Hampshire, where this takes place) is pretty cold in the winter. They had a rare snowstorm this October (the time this takes place).
So after finishing the book I'll go back and put ice crystals in those varying scenes which have them before. If you read on and find continuity issues with environment, don't be surprised. I know of them and will change them in due time.
Reasoning for this are the scenes themselves. In a few fight scenes snow will effect all in company. Such as slipping and sliding, more calculated strikes, and (what's the opposite of liberal?) kicking- well let's just say this. Kicking people in the snow is a bad idea.