Sleepy Fox Hollow mental cabaret

It wasn't so cold here. The trees were a rudimentary wall to the wind, which, as any living creature might know, was quite biting in the winter. She brushed leisurely past a trunk, ruffling some snow that had caught in its nooks and crannies. This whole wandering lifestyle was getting old quick. She'd relished in the infinite expanse of possibilities in the warmer months, sure, but she learned the hard way that it wasn't such a good situation to be in, freezing your butt and toes off and stumbling drunkenly around in a hungry haze.
The trees rattled nearby; she shivered and chose not to dwell on if it was out of fear or the cold, or both. Maybe it was time to settle down. But of course, as soon as summer poked its head over the horizon again, she'd want to free herself of any shackles. It was quite the dilemma she had on her hands. She was about to persuade herself that just getting over it and bulling your way through the harsh frost was the best choice when she saw another woman. 
Like herself, she was hard to miss, a black figure in the mostly white backdrop. "Hey lady, d'you know any good places round here that won't freeze my ass off? Safety in numbers 'n all?" If the woman proved herself to be dangerous—well then, Harper would do what she always did in sticky situations. Turn tail and run. Right now, she was poised on the line of staying around and beating it.