Broken Antler Fen super winter!

The temperatures were rising. They shifted too subtly for Andalusia to feel, but the change showed in other ways. The rhythmic drip of the melting snow, the sporatic thunk as the branches eased their load, the squelch of slush between her toes. Andalusia shook her paws compulsively in turn to flick the mucky wetness off her fur. Grateful as she was for the thaw, she had never enjoyed this time of year. The half-melted ground made for precarious, and often unpleasant, travel. While she had learned to bear with this time, she did so only for the promise of spring.

She set out with no particular aim. If nothing else, she planned to assess the damage the winter storm had brought their camp.