Moonsong Glacier clothe yourself with all the rough alikes

@Whip

A light snow fell as Akantha scoured the jagged reaches of the glacial retreat for food, and things of interest. Normally she would have preferred the bounty of the sea, but their access to it was tenuous at best with so many packs nearby. Their party was near ten strong now, perhaps higher for she was not the most social of the Sisters and could count on her toes with relative confidence the faces she knew to be pledged to the cause. The Consorts, young, would suffice for now. They would mature, the ritual would proceed, and the Sea would bless them with daughters a'plenty. Though she did not speak of it to Meteora, Akantha quietly hoped she would prove herself worthy to bear the year's young.

Presently, however, she was far more concerned with rooting out a few meals to bring back to the group. Her paws, used to the supple give of the ocean sands, were not holding up well to the rough landscape. Already her pads sported a few new cuts, and though they were nothing to be concerned about medically, they did leave an obvious trail of pink-tinged prints in the snow. But the bullheaded amazonian was undaunted. A flash of agouti-fur amongst the shale caught her attention and she stopped dead; her breathing stilled, her eyes dialated, and she flared her nose to take in the scent of the pika. 

She crept forward, stiff-legged and ready to spring.