Alpine Lake for merely dreaming we were snow

Sable watched her go with a curious expression, chomping more securely on his prize, before he let out a little sigh of a sound.

Back towards the lake he would go, tail bobbing, happy with the prize he had won from this endeavor. Though, he was less happy when he returned to the bush and the chipmunk launched into a squeaking tirade about, presumably, the state of his coat.

Sable sighed, a long, low note, and ran his foreleg down his nose.

Back to this again, he supposed.