Firefly Glen I believe.

She lingered, patient, looking out over the plain where fresh-fallen snow glistened in the light of a setting sun. She saw no tracks break the surface, no suggestion of prey or predator alike having passed through. Ciri lifted her slim muzzle and tested the air, where she found the aroma of her pallid pack-mate upon the chill.

He had come, and she greeted him with a smile to accompany the wave of her ebony tail. Chakliux spoke of one he named "brother fox", his apparent target, and her ears twitched. She assumed he wished to fell a literal fox, which made Ciri feel disappointed; she wished to feast, and this particular meat was not what she had in mind.

Where do we begin? Ciri asked, not wishing to insult the seal-hunter by curling her lip in distaste.