Whitebark Stream every hurricane gets its name from a girl like this

In a wanting frenzy, Reek's eyes scanned the snowswept terrain in the hopes of finding where the trail resumed.  Eventually, his eyes settled across the river on a thin trail of hoof-prints in the snow. From there the trail was solid, but a natural barrier seperated him from his dinner.  The stream seperating him from his prey was topped with a thin sheet of ice.  With a testing step, Reek placed a forepaw on the ice and pressed down.  It gave way into the fridged water running beneath his foot.  He cursed inwardly, knowing there was no way to cross.

Due to the numbing cold acting on his sense of smell, he hadn't caught Thuringwethil's scent. Her chuff caught him by surpise, causing him to stagger backwards from the water. Shaking the loose snowfall from his pelt, Reek looked to the stranger; though she kept her body low, he could see she carried herself with strength. There was a commanding air around this stranger.

Reek smiled. There were no need for squabbles over dominance outside of his territory, so the alpha of the maplewood regarded the stranger warmly. "Oh, hey!" he spoke. "You don't suppose there's a way to cross this thing without absolutely ruining my day, do you?"