Porcupine Ridge black mousepad that needs a cleaning

When Taggarik paused, Terich did too. Their bodies were poised above the snow, still as the mountain they called home, while they waited for some sign of their quarry. Terich's blue gaze traveled from his alpha to the snow around him, and his ears swiveled forward as the scritch-scritch-scritching of the mouse reached his ears. All was stillness for a brief moment before Taggarik reared back and pounced on the mouse with both front paws. But he was off by a fraction, and the creature shot out from beneath his paws and skittered toward nearby cover.

With a laugh, Terich scrabbled to follow the mouse, his nimble feet quick and elegant on the snow. Wolf chased mouse, the latter of which was faster and more nimble than the former. Terich cursed his luck as the mouse slid beneath the bush just as he pounced, sliding along the ground and getting a bushful of snowy branch up his nose. With a cough, he stepped back and shook his head, a smile on his face. Looking toward Taggarik, Terich shrugged his shoulders and let his tongue hang out in a pant. "Lost him! They're quick little bastards, aren't they?"