[After a good couple of hours wandering about, Baz has come to two conclusions about this town: he's the only one of his friends here, and there is absolutely nothing to eat. Nothing with a pulse, that is, aside from humans. He's only wandered into the town hall for a short reprieve from the cold, head too clouded by hunger and exhaustion to care much about the bulletin board, but then, two things happen at once:
First, he catches a whiff of blood. Dried, not fresh, coming from the board.
Second, he hears a familiar voice. No chance they mean Father Christmas, yeah? Coming from...]
Snow?!
[He halts, blinking. Maybe this is a dream. Or maybe they both died in some desert in bloody America after all. Or maybe he's just hallucinating from hunger and exhaustion. There are a lot of maybes right now.]
the end.
First, he catches a whiff of blood. Dried, not fresh, coming from the board.
Second, he hears a familiar voice. No chance they mean Father Christmas, yeah? Coming from...]
Snow?!
[He halts, blinking. Maybe this is a dream. Or maybe they both died in some desert in bloody America after all. Or maybe he's just hallucinating from hunger and exhaustion. There are a lot of maybes right now.]