Alpine Lake for merely dreaming we were snow

For a moment, Sable considered the mysterious “him” Masque spoke of, head lightly cocked to the side. But then she cleared it up almost immediately and he dipped his head in acknowledgment. 

A camp, with another strong hunter and someone who could also be a strong hunter. Three in one area was always a good idea, at least to Sable. Three wolves meant three mouths, but three mouths meant three mouths to catch things. He would definitely be thinking about it, at the very least.

Sable nodded around the half beaver in his mouth, ignoring how it was leaking blood all down his front. He would drop by, at least once, before he took his leave from the area. He chomped a little harder on his prize.

Thank you, head ducked low, ears lightly back.