Meadowlark Prairie rancid dinner with the pope

Ever since her battle against the cold, the girl had felt sluggish, tired. The events of that day were confusing and dim, but she understood that things had changed; here was the opportunity to begin anew. Still, she had spent much of her fresh-ish start sleeping, slowly gaining strength and eventually feeling motivated enough to find Screech. She hobbled; the cold had burned her rear limbs, up to her hacks, where she hadn't cleared the snow and the ice. 

She heard him, first, she shrillness of his voice slightly alarming but most definitely recognizable. She came across the pair as the boy tumbled backwards, gaze travelling to the other girl as her tail curled up and her ears pressed forward in dominance, pelt prickling but unsure of what to do. Very obviously she was interrupting something, but just how her interruption would be taken by both parties was to be seen.