The White World (Guild anthology preview)
And another preview of my story in the second Furry Writer's Guild Anthology: https://furplanet.com/shop/item.aspx?itemid=1000. The theme here is "World Tour" and I wrote about an Iberian Lynx out of place in the freezing reaches of Antarctica.
"You're going to die if you keep this up, Estela."
The lynx ignored the voice and hunkered down against the snow bank. She had a pair of binoculars pressed tight to her face, which had the benefit of keeping the freezing wind out of her eyes. Even with her fur and several layers of clothes, she began to feel the Antarctic chill prickling over her skin.
"You don't need to be out here. Surely someone else can do this... this..."
"Patrol," she muttered into the scarf which wound twice around her head. Her teeth chattered a bit as she did. That wasn't a good sign, but she ignored it.
"Patrol? In Antarctica? What, are the penguins going to pick up stones and chuck them at you?"
Estela sighed and scanned the horizon again. Somewhere out here a weather station had stopped functioning and whoever had installed it had failed to record its precise location. "Stuff breaks," she said, her voice clipped. "Someone needs to fix it."
Laughter sounded in her ears. "And you thought you ought to do that, instead of some polar bear or walrus or even some stone-lobbing, barbarian penguin who might actually be suited for the weather. Why?"
"I like being alone," Estela answered. The lynx took a shuddering breath. Too quick. It filled her lungs with frigid air.
"You aren't alone, Estela. I'm here."
"You aren't real."
Another laugh, louder. "Oh, I'm as real as you, Estela."
"You aren't."
"Prove it!"
Estela couldn't keep the growl out of her voice. Sinews sprang into action, pushing her from the ground and into a standing position in an instant. She rounded on the other lynx. "Look at yourself, Hugo. You're wearing, what, swim trunks and fur? In the middle of Antarctica? You should have frostbite. You should have hypothermia. You should be dying with no hope of recovery instead of... instead of..."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Dying instead of dead, you mean?"
The wind stung her eyes. Thank God she'd long ago gotten past tearing up every time she saw this mirage of him. "Go away," she stammered as her teeth chattered again.
Hugo's short tail batted a bit at the snow where he sat a half-step away . Little wispy drifts kept trying to blow over him but faded through his noncorporeal body. "Wish I could. But I'm a product of your imagination. So I can't go away until you really want me to." He watched as Estela shivered once. "You're going to die out here, Estela, and I wish you wouldn't. Come on. Let's head back to the station."
She felt a shiver run along her spine and a sudden urge to curl up and sleep, and knew from safety training it was time to leave. She hopped on the waiting snowmobile and drove quickly back to base, with the hallucination following her the whole way.
To be continued in Tales from the Guild - World Tour...