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Hawkeye moved through the forest, the canopy shielding most of her lands from the blanket of snow, but piles of it lay here and there. Her thick coat protected her from the cold, and she wouldn't have minded if the snow covered her lands but enjoyed that it did not.

Thirst tugging at her throat, she moved the opposite direction of her ledge. She daydreamed of swallowing the cool wetness, when she opened her eyes wide. It was far off, but definitely moving. A white pelt. Her lips parted in an annoyed growl and the raven-colored female trotted, determined, in the direction of the possible intruder.

He or she seemed to be at the very border of her lands as she came closer. "Excuse me," she called from far off, displeasure apparent in her voice.