Whitebark Stream put my hands in the fire, watched my welcome wear thin

for a while, he goes unnoticed. but the prickle along her spine, that intuitive sense that is part of all wild things, has her shift her attention away from the deer a moment. gaze trails back to meet the distant figure that she recognizes to be one of bhediya's wolves. she chides herself for the thought; they are all part of whitebark, and thinking of those that had joined with the dark woman to be separate would not do. 

she invites him to join her with a low chuff, soft enough not to alert the herd. her attention is drawn back away swiftly, however, when a sharp crack rings out; the doe has managed to puncture a forelimb through the ice. her auds press forward as she watches the doe struggle; she rest of her herd alert and unsettled as they watch her in much the same manner.