Cedar Sweep thinkin bout how some ppl dont know how to fish a buck, drive a truck, or skin a buck

She was returning to the strath alone and she was pretty ticked about it, she had gone to the lake to be alone and he had somehow followed her there and that would have been fine if he had not dragged that waste of white fur with him. Her dark paws shoved snow aside with each step as quietly as possible, Whrist was always thinking about quiet. Every step she had ever made was purposefully and silent. As she pushed forward through the snow she became even more ticked that her black pelt made her stick out like a sore thumb in the vast winter wonderland the teekon wilds had become.

Needless to say her mood was about as sour as it could get as she came up upon a chocolate spotted wolf. She tried to get ahold of herself as she drew closer to the wolf, why was yet another wolf intruding upon her peace and quiet? Never mind the fact she was quietly coming up behind him, everything was all about ‘her’. How things made ‘her’ feel, and how ‘her’ personal world was being torn up and thrown into ‘her’ face.