Wheeling Gull Isle the lake is frozen over; trees are white with snow

She didn't know whether it was the shifting of the wind, giving away his scent, or pawsteps, or even just a preternatural feeling of being watched that made her turn. Maybe it was just their connection, something that went beyond the senses. In any case, her gaze found Mou's, and she smiled, dipping her head to invite him closer.

Come eat, Maegi called out, and then resumed her work. Oysters were like any other animal—some bigger than others. They were frustrating in that they required disproportionate effort for a meager amount of meat. Rabbits and squirrels needed to be chased down, sure, but once captured, their flesh was readily accessible.

She seized another shell and dashed it against a rock; it merely ricocheted and splashed back into the shallows. She pressed her forepaws down upon it before the ebbing waves carried it away, and bent low for another try.