Lost Creek Hollow Vivamus, moriendum est

For whatever reason, Treason was expecting words and they just didn't come.  She wasn't sure what to think of that.  Maybe she was just really into her hunting.  Whatever, she'd come along.  It wasn't like Treason had much else to do.  Food would be nice, so she'd let Sarah track, wary of the wind direction, so she didn't muck with what she was doing.  One would assume Sarah's nose worked well enough, so she didn't need Treason possibly getting in the way.  She just double checked from her position at the rear.

Treason was more hesitant on getting out onto the ice.  Her wide paws were great for distributing weight across snow, but her overall mass just made her question the whole thing.  She really was not wanting to end up in the water.  Maybe she was secretly a cat.  However, Sarah had in a way presented a challenge, so she would have to accept with a nod and follow, ears tuned for any crack or creak that might say to get the hell off.

As long as they didn't go crashing into the water, picking off the deer should be pretty easy, shouldn't it?  Flailing legs might be a problem but at least they didn't have to chase it.  Getting it back to shore might be an issue, depending on how thick the ice was, but at least it wasn't the latter half of the season.  Still, though she had started behind Sarah, Treason eventually started to veer to try and go around the other side so they'd be able to get hold of the deer from two directions.  Or that was the plan until a few strides in, the ice groaned a bit.  Pause.  Yeah, maybe it was best she followed Sarah, she could test the route so Treason carefully adjusted her path back to meet her.