Ouroboros Spine I was three days on a drunken sin

When she lifted her head, he would be nowhere to be seen. The ptarmigan abandoned where he had dropped it — his steps having carried him across the snow in the dark of the trees, to where another squall burst forth.

Raimo was fortunate that ptarmigan often ran together in pairs, especially so during this season. He would emerge from the dark again and this time approach from another angle, carrying with him a sad looking sack of feathers and meat.

This one he would keep for himself. As he settled upon the snow, first sitting and then sprawling chest-down against the white, he held the bird between outstretched arms and preened at it's feathers.