Heron Lake Plateau The still, cold world.

A loud cackle escaped Towhee when Phox face-planted, then resurfaced a moment later with white powder clinging to his whiskers. "You got a little someth—" He pounced before she could get out all the words, the suddenness of his spring and his proximity allowing him to sack Towhee into the snow.

She went down with a noise that was half laugh, half snarl. She shoved at Phox, then rolled to get out from beneath him. As soon as she righted herself, she struck out a foreleg to smack the look right off his face.