don't eat the yellow snow
Mort!
05-15-2020, 11:37 PM
It was a long time before she felt comfortable enough to move, and she did so with the utmost caution, green eyes glinting in the moonlight as she peeked out of the old fox den, spying through the roots and the undergrowth that surrounded the tree. She was lucky -- this was one of the few trees whose leaves still clung to the trailing tendrils. bright orange and complimenting her pelt and the elk pelt well. The rest of the willows weren't so well-dressed.
Taking a chance, she crept out of her hiding place, the elk pelt clinging in her mouth. The fox stench clung well to her fur, and she was glad for the cover as she made her way south, keeping low to the trees. Unluckily, a particularly loud crunch of snow caused a nearby bird to take flight, its chatter echoing around the trees. Shit. Shit shit shit. She froze where she stood. What could she do?
Malalia took as many quick and silent steps as possible until she reached the nearest rivulet. Further downstream and further into the woods, this stream was a mere two feet wide and went up to just below her hock -- it wouldn't hide her scent as well, but its what she had to make do with. She tossed the elk pelt, laden with her own scent and the fox's, to the other side of the stream. She stepped into the stream with all four paws -- and then carefully back tracked, stepping backwards into the paw prints she had made before.
When she was satisfied, she turned and began to lope southward, focused less on speed and more on concealing her sound within the wood.
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