Blacktail Deer Plateau lass den Wind dich tragen

she raccoon chitters at her from above, weaving tightly between the branches. for a moment, she loses sight of it, but it reappears soon enough. "hello," she calls softly, lowering herself onto the snow. her gaze is fixated upward, oblivious to all around her. she does not know how quell had done it. she crafts herself into the picture of demure friendliness, even tries to project a sense of contentedness toward the creature. 

it does not budge. it stares at her and she at it, tail occasionally wafting at her rear. "you could be my homeboy, if you'd like," she offers. the raccoon does not budge.