Swiftcurrent Creek deadly light

The crunching of his steps alerted her to his approached and yet, like a rabbit caught in a snare, Rheia could not move. She found it oddly pleasant to be on her back like this - even if it had been by accident - and stared up at the falling snow in a manner to suggest complacency. Her limbs were tucked close to her chest, her tail wrapped awkwardly against her hocks (which themselves occasionally twitched when any small flake landed on her sensitive toe-pads). 

When the man was nearest she didn't feel safe at all, nor contented, for he began to shout. Rheia's calm hastily evaporated. She rolled and kicked as if to defend herself, dragging forelimbs through the snow and causing an uproar of white that briefly hid the stranger from view (and likely herself in reverse). But she did obey, scrambling to her feet during the kerfuffle.

When the mess died down and visibility was improved, the snowscape was mangled to pieces and in the center of it was Rheia - head ducked, ears back, trembling and useless.