Meadowlark Prairie the irony of dying on your birthday

Although there was absolutely no good reason for Raven to be out here—away from the cave and the caldera altogether, right after a horrible blizzard—nonetheless: here she was, traipsing through the deep drifts of snow. She had only meant to take a quick potty break, then she'd spotted yet another dead moose in the distance and decided to check it out. How she wound up on the wrong side of the territory's borders, Raven couldn't say. She was terrible at telling directions in the best of conditions and, right now, the world was a blurry smear of endless white. Could you really blame her?

Because she was on a flat plain—not that she really knew the first thing about her current whereabouts—the wind had pushed the snow into drifts along the fringes, leaving only a foot or two of pristine, sparkling snow on the meadow itself. The Gamma was already skimming along the upper crust, thanks to her light build and natural snowshoes, but suddenly she could actually see beyond the snow dunes. She stopped, squinting her yellow eyes, and yelled, "Aha!" when she spotted the caldera... in the distance... in the opposite direction...

Unsurprised at herself, she turned. Mid-spin, she saw a dark shape in the snow. A groan hit her ears. With a loud blink, the medic carefully trekked over toward the lump and found herself peering down into a set of pretty green eyes.