Blackfeather Woods Relatively ideal circumstances

Euron had his snout shoved into the snow. Some mouse had started a tunnel under there and he smelled it. He would have spent the better part of the day tracking it down had his brother not come along. "Come." The boy lifted his head. "Hmm?" Had Ramsay come by later when Euron was in the midst of his hunt — having developed a fondness for it from his first kills on insects — he may have found Euron was less inclined to follow. But as it were, he was more curious about what his brother was up to than the dribble of mouse urine beneath the snow.

He padded along behind his darker littermate, making a game of trying to place his relatively small paws perfectly in Ramsay's broader, more masculine tracks. It was awkward. Ramsay had a far shorter stride and trying to match it had a notable effect on Euron's usual poise. His steps were not as balanced or smooth. He wavered on occasion and carried himself more stiffly. The discomfort of trying to walk this way quickly ended the game and Euron resumed his natural gait. His eyes lifted from the ground to his brother.

"Soooooo," he hummed. "Goings to where?"