Porcupine Ridge don't you feel

the mountain air was colder, sharper, and harsher than that of lowlands.

winters elsewhere had not prepared her for this. it was enough that her mood had taken a sour turn, that she sulked around the edge of the ridge. she looked for a scent that interested her the most. anything that might free her from this wretched thinking.

she quickened her steps, pushed into a near run.

she was a golden figure cutting fast along the ridgeline. a way to heat her body.

it was not enough.