bats of a feather

The snow had fallen thick and heavy during the night, and the first thing Hazel noticed when she exited the tree hollow was the silence. The Forest was normally quite quiet, but this was different. It was weighty. Solid. Like the whole clearing had been swaddled in furs. Briefly Hazel ducked back into the hollow so she could clear the entrance from the inside out. She then stepped out and set about cleaning off the exposed roots of the tree lest they build up too high and dump their contents on her later.

Today felt promising. Hazel had felt it from the moment she had woken up. She didn't know what was in store or what kind of day it was going to be, but she would not simply be whiling her hours away today. With one final swipe at the roots Hazel turned towards the cold fire pit. Neither creature had meant to let it go out, but the driving snow had snuffed it out while they slumbered. Luckily there was dry wood set aside in the den. "Barnabas, love? Put on some tea, I feel we're going to need it."