Bearclaw Valley and this is the day, i die for it

as the snow fell around indra, blondine was hot on the tail of the scattered deer -- indra rose from her concealed position and sprung after their fleeing forms. they were too fast, and too hale -- they easily sliced through snow while she plowed through it like slough; before long she was winded and her steps slowed in vigor and speed.

she turned to blondine and it appeared her comrade had a similar foreboding sense of failure about them: indra offered a bleak smile, and cut towards her at an ambling stroll. there was no use expending energy if their meal was not guaranteed. "sorry," she interjected, assuming the deer had become aware of her presence first. "bet they think we're a pair of jokes, two red wolves trying to hide in the snow."