where no leaf blooms or blushes

The approach of winter was a different experience when one lived upon a mountain, and Muirrin had felt wholly unprepared for it. She was a wolf familiar with lowlands and forests, where winter came softly with the falling of leaves and chilly gusts of wind. On the mountain, however, it came hard and fast—while it might be winter in the territories at her foothills, the snow that remained on her mountain's peak year round had begun creeping down its sides months ago. Temperatures within Tuatha Dé's borders had already dropped significantly, and her coat had come in thick. It was treacherous to leave the caverns they had made their dens in the night, when it fell far below freezing.

Dawn had seen Muirrin emerge from the jagged rock, leaving the warmth of the caverns and entwined limbs of wolves behind. It was good that they were together, but they would soon need to hunt—rabbits and mice could not sustain them for long, and the trial of silence and isolation Muirrin had set against them to gauge their loyalty meant they were all a bit leaner than they should be. But even from the mountain's vantage point, there was no clear indication of herds nearby or in the distance.

She decided to try her luck in the Vale, where skeletal trees might camouflage any remaining ungulates from her sight. Muirrin spent the greater part of the day there, desperate to scout out any sign of herd movement. A beautiful place in the spring and summer, it proved to be desolate and barren beneath the thin blankets of the early season's snow. Just when she was about to give up hope, the Alpha caught sight of fur stuck between a tree and its bark; now alert, she moved to investigate.