He really needed to look into a winter costume.

It was the selfsame debate he had with himself every year; once the cool weather gave way to downright cold, Quackerjack would start designing a coat. And once he got it where he liked it and could start shopping for fabrics, spring had sprung, so he didn't have a need for it. He'd given last years design a cursory glance only a few days ago and he'd hated it. Last year he'd been into ribbons and fringe. This year was all about round things. He wouldn't be caught dead in last year's design.

Quackerjack had a Look™. No ordinary coat would do. It wasn't just about the warmth it would bring, but the statement it would make. This coat would be an extension of him, like his everyday costume was. He needed time to carefully control the chaos. Which he'd had none of before Negaduck practically wrangled him out here.

And that was why Quakerjack found himself shivering in the snow-filled streets of St. Canard Prime.

Megavolt was sporting a parka, Bushroot had dug up a beanie and scarf from somewhere, and how Liquidator wasn't a frozen statue of ice was anyone's guess. It always was a bit of a mystery, how he lived life.

"Oh, great," Quackerjack lamented, crossing his arms all the tighter across his chest and glaring up at the sky. "It's starting to snow."

"Now only for a limited time," Liquidator said comfortingly. At least, Quackerjack took it as comfort. It was sometimes challenging to understand Liquidator with all his slogans.

And people said Quackerjack was unstable.

"I might have another scarf," Bushroot offered.

Quackerjack scoffed. "Unless it coordinates with my color scheme and has round things on it, I'm not interested." It was the year of round things; did no one else understand that?

Bushroot sighed.

"I could always warm you up," said Megavolt, electricity surging between his fingers.

"And get my feathers fried in the process? No thanks, Sparky."

"Don't call me Sparky!" Megavolt balled his hands into fists, flashes of his voltage dancing between the prongs of his hat.

"Shut," snapped Negaduck, emerging from the Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery. "Up."

Quackerjack leveled the mallard a glare, which was countered with a dark sneer. The clown didn't press his luck any further, just hunched against the wind as the five started trudging down the street.

"Quackerjack doesn't have anything to keep him warm," Bushroot said.

"Not my problem," Negaduck growled.

"But he's gonna whine about it the whole time," Megavolt said. "I hate it when he whines."

Quackerjack did pride himself on that. He'd been working on a good whine for awhile.

"Then don't listen to him," Negaduck offered, not bothering to look both ways before crossing the street. Not that it particularly mattered; the city was deserted. Everyone was inside, sheltered from the cold. If it hadn't been for all the bright Christmas decorations and the order of the streets, Quackerjack would have sworn that they were in the Negaverse rather than the Prime Universe with how empty the streets were.

"Oh, I make it very hard to ignore me," Quackerjack said with a grin.

Negaduck whirled around, causing the four to halt in their tracks, all of them ducking down on instinct, both to avoid getting hit and to drop out of Negaduck's line of vision.

His cold eyes were fixed on Quackerjack, the dark stare giving him the uneasy feeling in his gut that came whenever the Masked Menace focused exclusively on him.

"It'll be easy if I tie you up and leave you to freeze to death," Negaduck's snarl set all of Quackerjack's feathers on edge.

"You wouldn't do that," Quackerjack heard himself say in a shaky voice. Which was so stupid. Why was he questioning Negaduck at all? But his beak wasn't done flapping because he also said, "You need me for whatever job you're dragging us to."

Negaduck's gaze went from icy and unfeeling to heated and outraged in the span of a few seconds and Quackerjack cowered in spite of himself. His heart hammered in his chest and his mouth ran dry as Negaduck marched over to him, maintaining their eye contact.

Looming over him, Negaduck softly asked, "You wanna test that theory?"

Still unable to properly swallow and having lost his voice besides, Quackerjack shook his head, grabbing onto the ends of his hat to silence the jingling bells.

Negaduck glared at him a few moments more before spinning on his heel and stalking down the street. Megavolt, Bushroot, and Liquidator all scrambled after him, but Quackerjack took his time, fully collecting himself before following. Not like Negaduck would be hard to find, his black cape standing out against the stark white snow like a smear of paint on an clean canvas.

It was then that Quackerjack realized Negaduck wasn't wearing any sort of winter wear either.

But, he supposed as he ran after the group, when you were a soulless monster, there wasn't much you needed to keep warm.