Whitebark Stream whitefang

The day was unusually calm, free from storm with the occasional peek of sun from behind snow-stuffed cloud. An otter emerged from the stream, sleek and wet with a plump fish clasped between its paws. Amidst the crunch of fishbones, Winter held its breath.

It was then that the otter startled, its nose twitching once, twice, before it scarpered in a flurry of squeaks. The fish lay abandoned on the riverbank.

A low huff followed as the bear swiftly claimed her prize. Fish scales sparkled as she sank to her belly and ate, pausing only to return a sliver of meat to the stream. Her tail thumped, disturbing the snow; where one fish was there were surely more.