a wash

The barren land provides ample space for the northern wind to whisk through. His fur ruffles as a shiver runs down his spine. Looking up at the deer, he too worries why she is alone. Was he safe talking to her alone? Or would someone come to her rescue in fear the predator would hunt her? His head cants at her response, head physically moving around to look at the milky white landscape. Nope, still nothing really around them except for rocks. Shiny rocks.

"We live in the lands that neighbor this one," he answers once his gaze lands back on the doe. Lifting a paw, he points it behind him up the slope to where the tops of the pines could be seen. "I kinda accidentally rolled down into this... I don't know what this is," Maelstrom's brow furrows as he looks around again. There's no water, no brush, no nothing. So what was it supposed to be called?

"Maelstrom"