It was a fair day. The skies were clear - what he could see of them through the tree tops - and there was a blustering breeze to top it all off. This was the farthest Amon had traveled in to the wilds; had he been younger, perhaps he would have been more interested in his surroundings and noticed the pale girl sooner. But he had been around for a while now, and a forest was just a forest. A mountain was just a mountain. Nothing about the land was ultimately that interesting - so he focused on the sky, wondering if snow would come early this year or late.
Amon tried to be nimble and quick, slipping between some of the very thin birch trees and feeling his fur catch upon their peeling bark; but he misjudged the distance and soon felt the pinch of the too-close-trees on either side of him. He had somehow wedged himself between them. Well that ain't right.
He mumbled roughly, and then attempted to reverse his course. In doing so he was suddenly faced with another tree, and another - clearly he had not been paying attention, because there was a barricade of thin white trees all around his burly self that refused to let him go anywhere.