Sun Mote Copse the shrike to your glorious thorn

He was not often struck by the beauty of his surroundings - in fact, he made a point to ignore any fanciful notions that passed through his mind. Unless those thoughts gave him aid in battle (thoughts on the terrain or tactical knowledge for instance) he did not like to cloud his mind. But he found his frustration ebbing away as he watched the specks of ice drifting in the light.

Then, a voice. He turned his ears first, then caught the contrasting glow of fox-red fur with his dark eyes. She was bigger than any fox he had ever seen, but similar in composition. On the smaller side - probably quite swift. Bit of a maze though, he drawls his counter-argument, but does not disagree.