Witch's Marsh Gypsy Caravan

The older woman wakes with a snort, and Quetzalli lowers herself once more in respect. She watches the woman rise, then sniff at the offering. When she samples of it, Quetzalli lifts her head a little more, watching for the verdict. At the gesture and obvious pleasure in the meal, Quetzalli's tail waves behind her and she beams. She moves forward and dips her head again to the woman as she passes her. "Gracias, Doña." Her voice is warm, but she does not stay to pester the woman. 

She moves into the darkness and warmth and heaves a sigh. She is tired, and so very cold. Snow is beautiful, but she never thought it could be so painful. She sniffs about to find the place the woman lay before, and then lays away from it. She does not want to kick the Doña from her bed. She starts at a polite distance away and merely sits on her hind end. She will not lay down until the other is finished, and then, once she is, she will offer conversation and warmth. She wants to know the woman's name, and where she came from.