Silverlight Terrace Surrender to your heart

The woman had made it past the pack; with her life intact. Now, back to her hunting.
She put her nose to the ground and started to shovel snow from her path, hoping some scent was still held there. No, there was no scent, but there were tracks. There were tracks moving west -- not her quarry -- but there were smaller tracks heading East. That was what she wanted. The snows had come before she started on the mountain, she couldn't be too far behind.

She listened intently, what could she find here? 
Rabbits: they would be under the snow and white. Hard to catch.
She'd seen foxes hunt, they dive under the snow. And great owls used their power to punch under the snow. Now, she would adopt that to hunt for herself now.

Stealth. She silently passed over the ground and cocked her to listen. She had not the great ears of ones designed to hunt from under the snow with sound, but she had the cunning. Listening, silence.
There was a squeak, a rustle, and the sound of movement under the snow. She stopped, poised to launch head-first. Another rustle told the huntress that her quarry was close. Closer it got.
She reared up and forced her way down into the snow, paws first, and caught a lemming under her paws. Forcing her head down, she caught the small body in her jaws and crunched. She brought her head up and threw her head back, eating the success quickly.

Casting a wary gaze about, she wondered if anyone else knew how to hunt like that; and realised she wouldn't mind teaching the method to a competent student.