Firefly Glen Shadows on the sun

She'd finally found the sort of trail she was looking for, a faint scent path that lead her deeper into the glade.  She wasn't entirely sure, but it was likely a squirrel that had gone after its cache, hidden somewhere nearby.  Zenith didn't find the squirrel, instead motion caught her eye.  She paused, watching a wolf form itself out of the snow and shadows like a far-too-solid ghost.  If he hadn't moved, Zenith might have gone right by him -- at least until she picked up his scent, but the faint breeze wasn't in a promising direction from her current position.

Given that her footsteps were one of the only distinct sounds in the snow-muffled world, Zen figured she might have even disturbed him by accident.  She took a few strides towards him, close enough to be able to call out, Pardon.  I hope my tromping about didn't wake you?  Zenith had frozen mid-step, hopefully showing she wasn't gonna stick around if this dude wasn't up for conversation.  It was too late to be polite otherwise.