Overture Downs more than could be chewed

It was sheer luck Watcher didn't find herself in the same predicament. Her paws carried her over the hills with ease, digits lightly spread to mimic snowshoes as she traversed the fresh powder. So far, she hadn't encountered any air pockets to mire her and she knew better than to travel close to trees where a tree well might swallow her up without a sound. Sheer luck kept her moving, but it was not luck that brought Watcher to Swift.

For some time now she had been loosely following the scent of another on the breeze, and if that wasn't enough, the boy's loud grunts and expletives would summon any wolf within half a mile. She approached him at a lofty trot, surveying the situation from a short distance with pricked ears and a curious tilt to her head. Somehow, he had got himself trapped, and he wasn't the only one.

She came to a halt when she spotted an antler sticking up out of the snow. Hm, she mused, dropping her haunches casually to the snow and fixing Swift with a pitying expression. She needed time to think. They could almost have been twins if his fur was a little more red. Maybe that shred of similarity was why she paused to consider how she might help this otherwise unfamiliar wolf in what seemed to be a futile task. there's nothing for it. You're a dead man.