Blacktail Deer Plateau in the town where I was born

Stretched out by the crayfish pond, Dawn nosed the surface tentatively. It had frozen over, barely, the edged white with frost. The ice was beautiful; creating sharp angles and cobweb-like shapes over the dark water. Applying just the slightest more pressure, the fragile surface cracked beneath her south, frigid water lapping against her muzzle. Licking her lips, she drank carefully, brow furrowing at the sting of the ice-water, huffing out through her nostrils in disdain.