The Bracken Woods The one of Ice

The sound of hooves pounding against earth and snow reached her ears. In the distance, steadily coming closer. The muscles lining her back and shoulders tensed in anticipation, should the need to veer out of the way arise. Soon she saw the dusting of kicked up snow, hanging mist like in the air. Smelled the iron of blood. That of a buck. Then a wolf, following.

The blur of brown hide that was the stag fell out of the corner of her vision. Behind it, it left a fresh smattering of blood. A clearly marked trail in the pristine white of the snow. This was not what drew her immediate attention. It was the pale wolf, beyond the divide of the trail, that she held her eyes upon.

She squinted, curiously. He looked...and smelled familiar. But she couldn't be certain just yet. Giving a wave of her tail to show she was non hostile, the Tundrian took two steps forward. Then gesturing to the curling blood trail near her paws. "There may yet be an opportunity to track it down. He won't get far in these conditions, especially if he is under stress." She invited, testing the strangers interest in teaming up for a hunt.