Papa Said 'Mind Your Manners'
Hunting/Luns
05-18-2020, 06:43 PM
Amaranth woke to the first snowfall of the year. Or at least, it was the first snowfall she’d seen, which made it the first anywhere as far as she was concerned. Peeking out from the hollowed-out riverbank den she’d claimed the night before, Mara blinked. The young female squeezed her eyes shut, blinded momentarily, and considered just going back to sleep. The bears had it lucky, she decided, dozing off in autumn and reviving at the cusp of spring.
The snow was hardly more than a dusting. Three or four body lengths before her lay a stream not yet frozen over. The night hadn’t grown cold enough for ice to span it entirely. It clung to the edges, coward that it was. Still, the sparse woodland before her was sprinkled in powdery white. Amaranth took it as a warning, even as she wriggled forth from the old hollow and stretched her way into a new day’s light.
She had never seen the depths of true winter, and despite the grave words of wolves older than herself she found the thought exciting. Snowfalls deeper than a wolf could stand upright, pine trees exploding in the grips of the most fearsome chill, wolves frozen stiff as stone if caught out unawares. Perhaps it should frighten her, but Mara figured that as long as she found a way to warm herself up in the moment she could go right back to appreciating the mysticism of it all.
The first step to warming herself up, she reasoned, would be to find a good meal. Particularly if she and every other woodland creature was destined to be frozen stiff. Might as well pack on the calories now if there was any hope of being thawed out in the spring. She struck out from her temporary den, eyes scanning the fresh snowfall for any recent tracks.
The snow was hardly more than a dusting. Three or four body lengths before her lay a stream not yet frozen over. The night hadn’t grown cold enough for ice to span it entirely. It clung to the edges, coward that it was. Still, the sparse woodland before her was sprinkled in powdery white. Amaranth took it as a warning, even as she wriggled forth from the old hollow and stretched her way into a new day’s light.
She had never seen the depths of true winter, and despite the grave words of wolves older than herself she found the thought exciting. Snowfalls deeper than a wolf could stand upright, pine trees exploding in the grips of the most fearsome chill, wolves frozen stiff as stone if caught out unawares. Perhaps it should frighten her, but Mara figured that as long as she found a way to warm herself up in the moment she could go right back to appreciating the mysticism of it all.
The first step to warming herself up, she reasoned, would be to find a good meal. Particularly if she and every other woodland creature was destined to be frozen stiff. Might as well pack on the calories now if there was any hope of being thawed out in the spring. She struck out from her temporary den, eyes scanning the fresh snowfall for any recent tracks.
