Jade Fern Grove Sometimes it burns

Paws of soft brown tip toed softly, softly through the frosty covered ground. Feathers fasted behind ears, swayed with the soft brush of the gentle wind. And golden eyes stared out into the far reaches of the forest. There wasn't much to be found for herbs, but Etienne could scent the small game that was lurking, there beneath the frosty covered leaves. They no longer crunched with Autumn's loud hunger. Instead, they gave way beneath his paws.

A soft sea shanty under his breath. Barely a whisper as he stalked. He would find something for the younglings to eat and play with. Kudos if he could catch it and keep it alive long enough for them to play. If not, well it would just be a snack.

The rest had been told to stay behind. Some her children, some dogs she had grown with, and family to her all the same. She would take the responsibility of scouting ahead, ensuring that the path was safe for the other's.

Nose to the ground, eyes sharp, she knew all too well of the larger canines in the area.

One stood what must be about eight metres ahead. The hound could tell from the strength of his scent, the soft voice speaking words unknown, and the pawsteps onto frost.

Her head lifted, eyeing the bushes until the slightest amount of movement was spotted.

Tail stood high, head tossing back to release a long and far too loud bark-howl. An alarm to those waiting for her.