Sun Mote Copse Fairest of the seasons

She was fortunate that of all the wolves in the world, she'd found one like Phox. As she 'shared' the stick with him, she chewed at it with rough, crunching clenches of her jaws, and snarled as she did so- the same way she did, without even noticing it, as she ate. And when he tugged at it, she'd only snarl louder, and she clicked her teeth together once or twice when he managed to sneak it out of her mouth and pull it toward himself. She'd pout, but without fail, he'd push it back toward her and she'd latch back onto it again. And every time he did, she'd scooch a bit closer to him, and growl a bit softer. 

When he stretched, he left himself open to more snuggling, so she nuzzled her muzzle into the fur of his shoulder and wriggled her shoulder in against his ribs, tilting an ear as he soke of the Frosthawks, and mentioned the Caldera. Apparently, he seemed inclined to leave the copse soon, citing the advent of winter as part of his reason for doing so. Niamh didn't fear the season changing- she'd travelled through snow before, and knew that the Caldera was close enough that they could make the trip even after the snow fell. But her concern was that they had neighbours she either didn't like, or didn't know. So regardless of the fact that they had different reasons for wanting to move, at least they had the same aim. 

"How soon're you thinking?" She asked curiously, her tone optimistic. After all, while she'd raided a couple caches over the past couple days, she knew there were still some places she had food stashed away- and she wouldn't want those to go to waste.