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Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! School trip to New Zealand! This is going to be the best thing EVAH!_The cheetah was practically bouncing in his seat as these thoughts ran on a loop through his mind. He had been looking forward to this ever since Mister Cornwell, his maths and form teacher, had hinted at it six months ago. Sure, it would mean missing out on Christmas and New Year at home, but who would exchange something you got every year for a once-in-a-lifetime experience? What made this all the more exciting for the spotted cat was that they would be going _skiing; something he had never done before, but had heard great things about from his parents who had spent their entire honeymoon careening down powder-covered slopes at great speeds. To think that in a few short hours he would be setting foot in Middle Earth itself...

"Those seated in rows nineteen to twenty-seven are now invited to board flight BA176 to Krakow." Announced a cool female voice.

"That's us! Oi, Milo! Wake the fuck up!" A sharp pain in his shin brought the cheetah out of his reverie. He looked around confusedly for a moment, before he caught sight of the hyena standing over him. "We're boarding now, c'mon." Chevy said, thrusting a rucksack into his friend's chest. Milo stared in bewilderment at Chevy fleetingly, then it all came rushing back to him: ski trip to Poland, not New Zealand. Heaving a sigh, the cheetah scrambled to his feet to follow his taller best friend down the passageway that lead to their plane. It was wishful thinking that had brought on all those fantasies of experiencing all that New Zealand had to offer, as it was a country Milo had long nurtured a hankering to visit. Instead he would have to stomach skiing in crummy old Poland instead. Who the fuck goes skiing in Poland anyway? Was what the cat repeated in his head as he and a good two dozen others from his school filed onto the plane and found their seats. One small comfort at least was that they were travelling on a proper airline, not one of those budget excuses like EasyJet.

With his and Chevy's luggage stowed safely away in the overhead compartment, Milo got down to the business of making himself as comfortable as he could in his window seat. He gazed out at the tarmac as all the other 'scrubs' who had the misfortune of being on the flight to some shit-hole in the middle of Europe shuffled down the aisles to their own allocated places, Milo gazed out the window at the tarmac, watching as the ground crew loaded the last of the luggage onto the plane. A sudden buffeting to his seat interrupted his idle viewing. Turning his head away from the furs in hi-vis jackets, he found a certain lanky hyena trying to fit into the seat next to him. "Problem?" Milo asked with a smirk, now enjoying the far more entertaining sight of his best friend doing his best to squeeze his long legs into what little space there was between his seat and the one in front. "Shut up." Chevy returned with a scowl. Appearing to give up on keeping his limbs in the space he had, the 'yena stuck one out into the aisle, while the other did its best with what legroom was afforded to it. With the entertainment seemingly over, Milo returned his gaze to the outside world, only to find that the ground crew had vanished. Fortunately for the cheetah, he had only a few minutes to wait before the plane began to move as a smooth, subtly-accented Scottish voice crackle onto the announcement system. "Good afternoon everyone, this is your captain speaking. We've just been given permission to taxi to the runway, so we should be up in the air in the next five minutes or so. In the meantime, please give your attention over to the cabin crew for the flight safety demonstration. I would like to wish you all a pleasant flight." Obediently, Milo pulled his attention away from the airport slowly sliding past his window to focus on the overly-glamorous lady antelope now going through the motions of pointing out the exits and the like. By the time she had reached the demonstration of how to fasten and unfasten seatbelts (for the morons who had been allowed to board the plane), the spotted cat had lost interest and had gone back to staring out the window, in time to watch a smaller passenger plane land virtually right next to him. He followed its progress down the runway until it was out of sight, then flopped back in his seat. It seemed that that piddly little aircraft was all that was holding up their flight's progress, as the much bulkier Airbus began to line-up on the runway as soon as the cheetah had stopped staring out of the window. Glancing across at Chevy, he saw that the hyena looked oddly tense; gripping the armrests surprisingly tightly. "What's up?" The cheetah asked, his amusement of before replaced with genuine concern. Chevy closed his eyes, apparently steeling himself to admit something rather big, or embarrassing. With a calming sigh, he opened his mouth, "I...don't like flying. I've always held my mum's hand the times I've flown before." One eye cracked open a fraction and settled upon his feline friend's face, wanting to gauge his reaction. Milo, to his credit, didn't laugh or even let a smirk invade his otherwise concerned features. Wordlessly, he settled his hand in the hyena's, allowing Chevy to grasp it as tightly as he needed. The dog-like creature stared in surprise at his shorter companion, both eyes wide open now. "A-are you sure?" He asked, feeling convinced that Milo would whisk his hand away and start laughing at his misfortune at any moment. Much to his surprise, the cheetah simply nodded and gave Chevy's hand a warm, encouraging squeeze. Feeling instantly comforted, the hyena's face broke into a still-nervous smile as he squeezed back in kind. Little did he know that the strange fluttering feeling he experienced in his stomach was shared by the cat sat beside him. Hand-in-hand, the pair took to the skies.

---

The flight was pretty uneventful. Nothing went wrong and nothing exciting happened, it was just two and a half hours of talking, watching Europe sail by many thousands of feet below, and (not) eating the food provided. Once they had become airborne, Chevy had snatched his hand away from the cheetah; he didn't need the reassurance apart from during take-off and landing. He had certainly enjoyed the feeling of Milo's hand wrapped in his larger one though, despite the build-up of sweat between them. Milo had liked it too. It had taken all his willpower to stop himself from rubbing the back of his best friend's hand with his thumb, to feel the soft, well-groomed fur ruffle beneath his tender ministrations. Alas, doing something like that would have just been weird, and he didn't want to risk raising the ire of a hyena whose forehead threatened to tangle with the tops of most doorways. So the two passed the time in the air laughing off the awkward start to the journey, not having the faintest inkling that each would have welcomed further intimacy above all else.

The Airbus' undercarriage touched down at Krakow Airport shortly after half-past seven in the evening, darkness having recently descended upon much of Europe. As with take-off, but with less awkwardness, Chevy and Milo clasped hands as they hurtled towards the ground. The hyena's breathing quickened, becoming shallower as the ever-present fear of not making it safely back to Earth was fired around in his head. The only thing that kept him from a full panic attack was that smaller hand clutched tightly in his own. He squeezed it, perhaps a little bit too firmly as the wheels made contact with the runway. A small grunt of discomfort from the cheetah made Milo's feelings clear, but he made no more of it. Only once the aircraft had slowed to taxi gently to the terminal did Chevy relinquish his grip on his best friend's now somewhat crushed fingers.

The familiar boong heralded the termination of the 'seatbelt sign' and told everyone on board that it was time to start the scramble for luggage and the exits. The two friends rose with the other passengers, Chevy's ascent to a standing position punctuated by a nasty crack as his head hit the luggage compartment above them. Rubbing the spot where a lump was already starting to form, the hyena held out a hand to stop Milo from trying to get to the aisle. Standing there, hunched in the too-small space above their seats, Chevy drew his friend's gaze and spoke with genuine gratitude, "Thanks, Milo. That would have been hell without you." Refraining from giving the rosy-cheeked cheetah a hug, he ducked out from under the storage compartments to fight for space in the aisle. Being one of the tallest, if not the tallest person on the plane, the hyena easily managed to carve out some standing room for himself through the means of gentle barging and simply looking big. As Milo stood in his friend's shadow, waiting to be granted access to the aisle himself, Chevy reached above him to retrieve first the cat's bag, then his own.

It took a few minutes for the throng to start moving towards the exit as those still retrieving belongings blocked the aisles for those behind them who were ready to leave. Eventually though, the rows the large school party occupied were allowed to start the slow shuffle towards the front of the plane. Appearing to be returning the kindness showed to him by the cat, Chevy used his tall frame to block those waiting behind him so that Milo could squeeze into the aisle in front of him. Another minute or two later, they were making their way up the walkway to the terminal, following the lead of one of their teachers.

With the minimum of fuss possible with such a large group, the four teachers involved in leading the trip had shepherded their students through immigration and customs. Only Colin Tremain, a slightly dopey rhino who was better-known for his presence on the rugby field than his common sense, held them up; having forgotten to take his spare studs out of his sports bag. It took ten minutes of explanation in sign language and Ms Tremlett's broken Polish to explain to the stubbornly monolingual middle-aged doe conducting the search that the small pieces of metal and plastic were to aid grip whilst running on grass than for use in bomb-making. The customs officer's suspicious stare chased the large party out of the airport to the carpark, where a coach was waiting to transport them to their final destination.

It was another hour and a half aboard the cramped bus before the group caught sight of where they would be spending the next two weeks. With even less legroom than on the plane, Chevy was forced to invade his friend's space with one lanky limb, while the other practically spanned the whole aisle. Despite being crammed against the window to compensate for the hyena's stature, Milo found himself to be quite entertained as he watched southern Poland roll by, lit only by streetlamps and the lights of buildings as the moon and stars were obscured by thick, swirling clouds. Much to his surprise, the Krakow area didn't look nearly as bad as he had expected from what he could tell from the dim view he was afforded. He couldn't quite believe he was thinking this, but it almost looked...nice!

The cheetah's doubts about Poland resurfaced as he glimpsed a sign welcoming them all to Szczyrk. Szczyrk? Did they smash their face onto a keyboard when they named this place? How the fuck do you pronounce that? Invest in some vowels, Poland! Shaking his head, Milo pointed this out to the hyena next to him, who seemed to have enjoyed a far less comfortable and entertaining journey than his smaller friend had. Chevy had tried to snooze as best he could given the situation, and had been achieving some decent shut-eye until Rachel Moore tripped over his size-16 foot on her way to chuck a can of soda in the bin at the front of the bus. As he was awake, Chevy decided to join in with his feline friend's amused piss-taking of Polish naming conventions, the two of them even going so far as to postulate the idea that Poland was so poor that vowels had to be rationed.

As the bus trundled through the small town, snowflakes began to float serenely past the window, promising a wintery wonderland to explore during their first day in Poland. There was a flurry of rustling and the sound of bags being unzipped as nearly everyone on board the bus began to rummage around for a jacket. Only one particularly fluffy husky a few seats away from Milo and Chevy remained undaunted by the threat of the cold; he had more than enough thick fur and pudge to keep out even the chilliest weather Poland could throw at him. With the briefest of squeals from the brakes, the coach rolled to a stop outside a warmly-lit building, whose sign advertised it as a ski resort.Last resort, more like, Milo thought to himself jokingly, as it didn't look all that bad or 'Polish' if he was honest. "We're here!" Mr Cornwell called to the bus at large, "Everybody off!" One by one, the members of the party hopped off the bus, quickly pulling on hoodies and puffer-jackets as they scurried after the bushy tail of their vulpine leader towards the inviting warmth of the reception area. Milo and Chevy were among the first dozen students to file in through the doors, regarding the crackling open fire in one corner of the low-ceilinged room with intense gratitude. As their teachers began to check all of them in, the two friends milled about, chatting idly and taking in their surroundings of what would be their home for the next fortnight. Much of the place seemed to be made from wood, including many of the more decorative aspects. Combined with the dancing flames and the golden lighting, the wood theme made for a really cosy feel.

Just as people were beginning to warm their hands by the fire, Ms Tremlett turned to address them. "Everyone find your roommate!" She said, brandishing a handful of room key-cards at anyone who was looking her way. Pair by pair, she assigned people rooms and dished out keys until only Milo and Chevy were left standing either side of the flickering tongues of fire in the grate. "Last but not least!" She smiled at the pair of them, offering both boys a key-card. "You two are in room thirty-eight, which is a chalet all to yourselves! Out that door there, by the door to the restaurant, and straight across the courtyard. If there are any problems, us teachers will be in rooms sixteen and seventeen. Breakfast at nine." Bidding them both good night, she grabbed her luggage and went off in search of her room while Milo and Chevy dashed across the way to their chalet which stood in relative solitude amidst the swirling snowflakes which were beginning to fall thick and fast.

Under other circumstances, the two friends would have probably stayed out in the snow, catching flakes on their tongues and - if enough had settled on the ground - there would have been a snowball fight for the ages. As they had been travelling for several hours however, the two of them just wanted to get into the warm and get a good night's sleep in. With chattering teeth and shaking hands, they scrambled to fit one of their key-cards into the lock. After several attempts, during which they found themselves accidentally hindering each other's progress, there was a click and Milo was able to push the door open. Chevy dived in behind him and was immediately embraced by the undeniable cosiness of the room. Like the reception area, much of the décor was wooden, while those areas which were of different materials were painted in a warm, deep read. The bathroom was located by the front door, with the larger area beyond dedicated to two generously-sized beds, each with blankets of a similar hue to the paint on the walls. Opposite the beds was a large flat-screen TV, flanked by a kitchenette on one side, a luggage rack on the other. The only thing that truly set this room apart from other hotel rooms they may have stayed in was the flickering gas fire that was nestled in the corner, the light of the blue flames reflected in the double-glazed windows that looked out across the small but well-maintained snow-covered gardens, beyond which rose the slopes where the group would be spending much of the next two weeks.

While Milo slipped into the bathroom to make use of the facilities, Chevy heaved their bags onto the luggage rack, then went to claim a bed. Deciding on the one closest to the window, he sat down upon it and gazed out at the world beyond, now largely obscured by a veritable wall of thickly-falling snowflakes. After staring absent-mindedly at his wintery surroundings for a few minutes, the hyena got back to his feet to begin ferreting around in his bag for his pyjamas, toothbrush and toothpaste. The sound of the toilet flushing was soon followed by the tell-tale noise of teeth being scrubbed vigorously. Having found what he was looking for, Chevy stood patiently by the door to the bathroom while the cheetah finished up. The door soon swung open and Milo stepped out, smelling decidedly minty. He glanced up at the towering figure as he passed, smiling briefly, "All yours." The hyena smiled back and stepped into the bathroom to take his turn. There was little out of the ordinary here too: a large sink overlooked by a mirror was set along the wall to the left as Chevy entered, while the toilet was located directly opposite the door. To the right was a bathtub which looked far too small for the hyena to enjoy a leisurely soak. The shower cubicle - located behind the door - also appeared to be quite small. Clearly the architects chose to sacrifice size in favour of including more fixtures. Happy in the knowledge that their sanitary needs would be adequately met at the very least, Chevy turned his attention back to the sink so he could get on with preparing for bed.

While the hyena was busy in the bathroom, Milo did much as Chevy had done; he went over to his bag and extracted his pyjamas which consisted of an old pale grey t-shirt and a pair of mid-blue pyjama pants. After stripping down to birthday suit, which was slender for the most part save for a thin layer of pudge on his tummy, he pulled on his pyjamas and went to claim the bed whose covers had not yet been disturbed by someone sitting on them. As he slithered under the blankets, he was surprised at how warm the sheets were against his fur, far from the refreshing coolness he had expected. Upon closer inspection of the bed, he noticed a cable poking out from under the fitted under-sheet which then trailed along the carpet and behind the bedside table. Feel cosy enough already, he flicked the switch on the wall, deactivating the electric blanket that had been turned on in anticipation of their arrival.

Milo had to wait only a couple more minutes before the hyena emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his own pyjamas of an ill-fitting Chimpz shirt and the form-fitting boxer-briefs he had been wearing throughout that day. "Ooh! Surprisingly toasty!" Chevy exclaimed as he got comfortable in his own bed. Milo chuckled as the hyena reached out to turn off the lights, plunging the room into darkness that was only diluted by the dim light reflected off the steadily-growing layer of pure white snow on the ground outside.

"Good night." The cheetah murmured into the darkness.

"Night." Came the somewhat muffled reply; Chevy had nuzzled deep into his plush pillow. Milo yawned as he shuffled around under his covers, getting into as comfortable position as he could to sleep. He stared sleepily out at the snow that was continuing to fall past the window, the sight of which gradually dimmed as his brain closed down for the day. Eventually his eyelids slid shut, and he joined his best friend in the Land of Nod.