Blacktail Deer Plateau dudes in bodegas

I'm gonna assume they've at least come into contact with each other at some point, since they're roaming with each other. ^__^

The bitter, unkind cold had not left them. In fact, this morning, clouds had rolled in and snow had begun to fall. Chip had been following a weak-looking deer for the majority of her day, convinced that it would keel over any moment and leave her (and her crew) with some fresh meat to snack on. It looked as though the deer had been separated from its herd for quite some time, and Chip was bound and determined to stalk it right to its grave. And then eat it.

A voice caught Chip's attention, and thinking that it sounded familiar, she mentally pinpointed the spot where the deer was resting and took off toward the sound. This lazy, no-good freeloader was singing in the middle of a snowstorm. "Uh, hey," Chip said, approaching with a wary stance. "I don't think we've been formally introduced, but I'm Chip. I've been tracking this deer all day, and I think it's about to kick the bucket. You wanna help me carry some of it back to the others when that happens?" Chip asked, blurting everything out as quickly as she could.