Bearclaw Valley and this is the day, i die for it

Blondine trailed after Indra, assuming that she knew where she was leading them. A deer during a time like this would be a lucky catch, at least back at home; when food became scarce, tensions grew — Lord knows that the last thing anyone in the Valley needed was more tension. Taking a deep breath, Blondine caught a few of the drifting snowflakes in her whiff, bringing about a short sneezing fit. 

With an apologetic smile, she turned to Indra, Winter isn't my favorite season. Up ahead, she could hear the bellows of a small herd, certainly nowhere near the size they would be come spring. She nodded in the direction of the sound, ears cupped atop her head.