The wrecking ball collided with her house with a sickeningly thunderous crack. It was over. Amethyst was homeless. And the first snow of winter was already falling down on her exposed shoulders. Everything was falling down. The snow, the signal of a frozen breath that would probably mean her last. Her home, a symbol of all she held dear, blown away with a single sweep of ink. Amethyst hated herself for it. But deep down, she knew she'd would have eventually signed it. It was better this way. To go down without a fight, peaceably passing from one place in life to another. Ever since the first bill, she had known this day would come. She knew she wasn't making enough. She knew she'd be too independent and too stubborn to accept any help had it been offered. But for it to actually be here? That was completely different. Her swelling emotions got the best of her and Amethyst finally cracked, sinking to the ground in a hopeless pile of emotions all trying to escape at once. She wanted to scream and sob at the same time. Recent events having drained all the mental and physical strength she had left, she became indifferent and deaf to the vibrations and noises of the machines. Pure lack of energy drifted Amethyst into a dreamless but rejuvenating sleep.

Amethyst awoke slowly as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. It was so different from the cold night she just left. Where was she? Was this Heaven? Was she still possibly alive? Zenith answered her as Amethyst gradually roused her senses. "Amethyst, this is my house, not Heaven. You're very much alive, but also very sick. When you fell asleep, it was so cold out there frostbite could have easily and almost did kill you. But I stopped it from claiming my fiancée." A hint of pride concluded his summary.
Amethyst stared blankly at him for a long time, as if she was trying to process what she was seeing and her optic nerves weren't working fast enough.
"Oh," she said after a long pause, "Thank you, then. What time is it?"
"Your welcome, and it's-" He glanced briefly at his wrist. "6:18...a.m."
"6:18?! I should have been at work six hours ago!" Alarm played over her features as the girl rushed to get ready. In five minutes, she was out the door, having already shifted into a black fox.
"Amethyst, wait! You're still sick!" He caught her by the tail after a short sprint. She face planted in the soft snow, but quickly recovered.
"No, Zenith. You don't understand. I have to go. I don't have a home anymore and I need money. And the Post Master is very strict about tardiness. I've probably been fired already."
Zenith looked at her sorrowfully. "You can have some of my money. And stay in my house."
"No, I'm afraid I can't. I probably won't ever have the money to repay you and I have no room to offer in return. Or a house at all for that matter." Her voice trailed off as she turned away.
"It's a gift."
"Well then it's a gift I can't accept."
Zenith sighed and let go of her. "If you won't accept my gift, I can't force you to. But just remember, my door is always open to you and I love you." With that, he got up, turned and left.
Amethyst stood up and brushed herself off. Standing there stunned and perplexed, she watched her boyfriend leave. When he was out of sight, she shifted back to a fox and ran to the post office.

Surprisingly, the Post Master had not counted anyone late or fired anyone. When Amethyst inquired why, he turned to her with a kind smile and said "I cannot hold my employees to a standard I cannot keep myself, can I?"
Amethyst shook her head. By the look of it, the weather was only going to get worse, so she dashed away with a bundle of letters clenched in her jaw, hoping it wasn't icy. She was wrong.
The slick patches of frozen water repeatedly shoved her off course and sometimes into things. Thankfully it was never anything major, but Amethyst was polite and soon lost count of her apologies. The snow of yesterday had only multiplied and beat down on the poor animal. Wind swept the stinging flurries into her eyes, restricting her vision to brief painful glimpses of grayed out blobs. Time seemed to crawl, and Amethyst felt like her she was running underwater.
A few millennium later, an encouraging realization dawned on the delivery girl as her gaze flicked slightly downward momentary. One more letter to go.
The wind was a pack of invisible wolves, tearing at her body and parching her tongue.
This was the last letter.
They howled in her ears with a thousand voices and she raced them. Amethyst could feel their frozen breath streaming into her lungs and burning her throat. Her paws were frozen, and painfully cracked with every lunge.
One more letter.
Amethyst caught a glimpse of of the mailbox, it was a straight shot. Would she have the energy to jump up and actually deliver it?
It was one last letter.
Amethyst sighed deeply, and flung herself blindly into the air. The frigid metal box connected with her cheek, and she let go of the letter just in time. There was a thin red line on the corner which would count as damage, but at the moment, Amethyst couldn't care less. The letter was in the mailbox and that was all that mattered.
The fox crashed into some potted plants long withered and brown, and lay paralyzed in a blanket of freezing pain. Any kind of strength she could possess was gone, never to rise again.
The invisible pack surrounded her once more, and she was a sitting duck, a fish in a barrel. They crawled and whistled through her bones and Amethyst let them. All other options were infinitely past her. Even if they were a decision away, Amethyst would have stayed. She was done, a white flag blowing proudly from her thinning breath.

Fire and Silver huddled together, silently lamenting. The Post Master breathed happy things no one wanted to think about almost inaudibly. Off to the side, his daughter, Mary Ann and Zenith wallowed together in guilty regret. Her parents' tears gradually quickened. They quietly rolled down their faces and collected in a large puddle, occasionally accompanied by soft moans. No one could change her shape for her, so a black fox was carried through their midst in a wonderful rosewood bed. With permission from the king, she slept peacefully under a modestly simple sign where her home once sat.
Here lies Amethyst Willow Green, but her passion and independence shall live on forever. 1996 - 2015.