Lost Creek Hollow snow pheasant

When she woke that morning, it was to silence.

Hanging in the trees, in the whispers of faint wind. Her breath fogged out her nose and she knew with the certainty of small creatures that winter was here, even if the seasons had not yet changed. She gathered herself, pressing her thin legs beneath her and sighing as the warmth she so coveted sloughed from her shoulders.

The first thing to appear that snowy morning was her nose, followed by the rest of her in a graceful step. Which quickly became her sinking into the fresh powder. The cold was a shock, bringing a sharp squeal from her mouth as she jerked back.

Cold-!

She ducked back into her hidey hole, eyes wide. She was never quite ready for that first shock of freezing cold. She didn’t think she’d ever be.