Swiftcurrent Creek that noble and most sovereign reason

the grouse she swung from her jaws spoke plainly of the lushness of the season, life returned to occupy all corners of the wild. frail and new did the canopy turn slowly toward the sun, and below, life was in the midst of its frantic coupling, and each hour new life came in some form to the world. some would die before they grew old, others would come to take their place in the great symphony that was life. 

her back itched terribly as her coat sought to replace itself, and she stopped often to press against trees in her slow walk toward the heart of the territory. she left tufts and scraggly bits of fur wherever she went, though she suspected her summer coat would be hardly much of a change from the absurdly thick winter's mantle that seemed better suited to life in the far north. pausing, she pressed against a sapling that bent and jolted, the canopy atop it quivering. with a huph, she continued on her way.