Blackfeather Woods Into the woods

Potema blinked at Burke's, then looked at her own tail. It was pure white, growing out of its stubby stage and becoming a beautiful, fluffy pennant, something deriving from her father's Arctic blood. Would she ever be able to bite it off if she had to? Potema pouted. No, she wouldn't. Burke's must have been really ugly if he bit it off.

Potema followed the large gray male, her fluffy tail waving proudly in the air. She pouted again when Cicero told her what to do. "I knows howta hunt, Cic'!" She hissed softly, flattening her ears as she slunk into the grass. She would find the deer first, definitely.