Whitefish River Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Time - 3:00pm | Weather - Few clouds  | Temperature - 34F(0c) 

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Water flowed freely in spite of the freezing cold
temperatures, its movement yet to be confined into

crystals. The edges of the river were not so lucky,

they had been overcome by the freeze, unable to 

sustain constant movement it succumbed to nature.

Rye dipped his tongue into the river, lapping up

the crisp, cool water. He could track its movement 

down his throat and into his belly, it was sharp, 

practically slicing his throat on the way down.

It was refreshing to feel the acute cold contrast 

against his warm body, it sent shivers down his 

spine and it woke him. His travels often left him 

weary by sun set, so feeling the stark polarity 

of the cold briefly dominating his warmth shocked 

his system just enough to bring back attentiveness.

.

Fish swam up and down river, their bodies having 

already adapted to the cold. They were not as plump

as they would be in summer but Ryes' stomach dared 

not be ungrateful for any opportunity that willingly

presented itself. The male stood deathly still,

waiting for the fish to lose track of him. It wasn't

long, a whitefish swam narrowly close to him. With 

one swift move the fish was soon squirming and 

writhing in his jaw. Rye crunched down harder until 

he could hear the spine of the fish snap. Tiny pops

that delighted his ears and belly, dinner was served.

.

Blood dripped from his maw, staining the colorless 

ground. The only remnants of a life consumed was the 

head of the fish and blood soaked snow. Although Rye 

wouldn't mind a second helping he didn't care for the

numbing of his muzzle from the water draining his warmth.

Instead he opted to move further up stream, taking notice

of the hot springs near by. Their warmth was enticing and

certainly alluring but Rye spotted a cave in the distance 

that appeared far more intriguing than some glorified hot

water. It was recessed into a hill, large enough to house a

pack, Rye scented the air for markings. Nothing caught his 

attention so he proceeded with caution. "Is anyone in there?"

He called out, hopeful of no reply.