Broken Antler Fen one of the drunks

In the summer the fen would've hosted all kinds of life, but in the winter all of that had been stripped away. The snow dominated the undulating grassland for miles. The deepest parts of the fen were still open to the air while the thinner ponds had frozen over. An irregular snowfall had begun in the morning and petered out by midday, thankfully, as Rigel wasn't the biggest fan of the deep-freeze descending across the wilds. He sulked through the snow until he came to the edge of one particularly large (thinking lake sized) patch of water which had thin veins of ice sheeting across it. A few leaps, a few punches with his nimble paws, and he'd broken through the barrier. Then he settled in to drink from the opening, but kept his senses cued for possible danger lurking in the mire.