Rogue woke to the sound of breathing and curled into the solid warmth, only to have soft hair tickle her nose. She grinned, eyes still shut against the daylight trying to rudely protrude into her conscience. She swallowed, the taste of tobacco rough on her tongue and sniffed. Eyebrows drawn, the smell of pine, damp earth and clean air sharp in her nose.
Her cold nose. And come to think of it, the rest of her was pretty damn chilly, too. Like, frozen chilly. Rogue blinked and slowly pulled away from the topaz eyes staring steadily back at her. Frozen. Yep, frozen in flat out, point blank, fear.
The wolf's nose was cold, too.