Wapun Meadow You're my discretional sin

Indra soldiered on after Laurel, laboriously plowing through the thick snow with careful hops. Her sister's joyous feints were met with a wide grin, and she growled playfully into the snow as Laurel taunted her. She would have rallied then to attempt to catch her sister's rapidly fleeing body were it not for the arrival of another wolf.

This time Indra froze, one paw suspended above the snow's glittering crust. White powder still dashed her fur and face, and her hackles lifted slowly along her spine and haunches as the male weaseled closer. She looked to Laurel worriedly, but her sister seemed entirely unintimidated by Tambourine's approach. Indra wanted to feel brave like her sister, so she lifted her muzzle and sampled the cold air with deep drafts of her lungs. She did not recognize him or the scents he carried, and while she wanted to leave his company there was some worm in her brain that fought fiercely and coerced her to stay her hand. She did not understand why, but she felt compelled to be in his presence.