It’s frickin cold - open hunt

Lyra wwas being reminded why she preferred the South. This snow as absolute bullshit and she was not quiet about her complaints. Grumbling all the while, she pushed through the storm. Why was she even here again? Why did her curiosity drive her to this dumbass place? It was cold. Down South was warm. Even the East. In fact, this entire season was actually pretty warm instead of the coolness that normally permeated the air. Not here. Oh gods, not here. Here was fine snow lashing at her face, freezing her paws, and blocking her vision. Ears pinned back to her head, she searched for the riverbed she knew was there - she had, afterall, ignored the darkening sky and left the riverbed to explore a bit away from it. And look what it got her.

A dark outline in the snow caught her attention, and she squinted at it. Thankful for the width of her cat-like paws, she padded forward quietly but slowly, wanting to see what was there... but also ready to fight or run - depending on what was there - if need be. The shape slowly grew clearer... and it was a wolf. She blinked. Was it a wolf? It was awfully leggy. Not unattractive, but certainly not a typical wolf. Then again, neither was she. The colors of the aurora borealis with freaking cat paws. Yeah, she definitely wasn't normal. With a shrug, she stepped forward, head tilting in curiosity. "A bit of a surprise to see someone else here in this snowy hell." Genuinely it was - she most certainly wasn't expecting to run into another wolf here.