Swiftcurrent Creek La Bayadere

Making a number of whuffling sounds, Cygnet ambled along the border with her head down, sniffing about for the border markings. A fresh snow had fallen overnight, and it frustrated her; all the work she had done the day previous was covered by a light dusting of snow, and she did not appreciate it. It piled up on the tip of her nose as she snuffled along, occasionally sending it flying with a flick of her tongue or a shake of her head. She meandered about, leaving behind a very visible track of footprints and several yellow spots in the snow from her markings. 

She rubbed her muzzle against a tree and then snaked her entire body alongside it so that some of her pale fur might get caught in the softwood's scratchy bark. She gazed out into the open and imagined enemies coming to storm their home, and that she might be the lone defender. She huffed softly; 

life was nowhere near that exciting, and it was beginning to get on her nerves.