I am hoping that Circe will show up but others are welcome too!

This cave was a quiet place, going deep into the earth and feeling warmer as one traveled inwards, as it was hard for the cold of autumn, snowy here in the north, to penetrate so far inwards. But with the going so far in came other dangers, such as the foreign smells of bitey insects, bats, and the scent of a very large furred creature who came little now, but had been here perpetually before that (a bear). Besides those things, it had a scent rich of clay earth and some sort of lichen that grew from a dripping of mineral water too slow to drink and too salty from the rock wall for any nutrients.

There was a lake, but it was long frozen, tantalizing in its inaccessibility and the strangeness of its glow under the moonlight. The lake was fed by a rivulet of streams, some frozen or dried up since the last rain, but some still ran low and slow, just one extreme low from freezing over themselves. He drank from them, travelling a few scant miles a day from stream to stream to discover which were running each day, while resting deep in the cave where it was warmer, as far in as he ventured to go, should the larger muskier predator return. He caught some field mice, and a squirrel, and was slowly nursing himself back to health. The bits of frostbite were on the mend, his scrapes and bruises black and purple, invisible beneath his dark coat, but well scabbed. The going was slow and laughable compared to what a healer could do, but it was progress and every inch away from death by starvation was a mile's relief to his mind.

On this particular mid-morning, the sun had not reached its midpoint, and fresh snow mingled with the dirty, sludgy stuff underfoot, creating the most annoyance because one couldn't see the bad footing spots for what they were with the new white covering them. It was actually warm, and the fresh snow would likely be melted or merged into its bottom layer by late afternoon. Yll had found a squirrel high up on a cedar tree, and it chattered at him angrily. He raised himself on his hind legs placing his two front paws higher on the tree, leaning onto it, and looking at the squirrel with intense yearning for food and for the love of the hunt.

Yll Tempesto

Circe hadn't forgotten the skinny male who'd left a trail of piss in his wake as he fled from her. Nope, she'd spent the majority of her time since then thinking about how best to win him over. To that end she'd let plenty of time pass between his initial flight and the time she chose to reveal her presence. She hoped he got hungry during that time. Thirsty. Tired. She wanted him worn down so that when she arrived with several essentials in tow he would hopefully stay and be grateful. In her jaws was another rabbit and draped over her shoulders was a deerskin full of herbs. After spying her quarry Circe stilled. She stood on a knoll a short distance away and made no move towards him. This was the crucial moment. As far as she could tell he had yet to spy her. She needed to do this just right. She laid down on the knoll and then woofed once at him. The rabbit still dangled from her jaws. Hopefully the sight of it would give him enough pause so that she could explain herself. "Circe" "Gwydion"