Porcupine Ridge don't you feel

It was frigid. The Frostfur blood in him provided enough pelt to withstand the chill, but he still found himself in constant motion—or else curled up into a tight ball, trying to withstand the elements.

But an even greater chill than that in the air was the one that wound itself around his heart. . .because Muskrat was gone. For days, now. Without a trace.

Could he spare anyone to look for her?

They ran in parallel, shadow and gold, and he finally caught a glimpse of her bright pelt just above him. Nimbly enough, he traversed upward, meeting her with a genial chuff and lifting his chin in greeting.

Muskrat is gone, Hex said, his own thoughts echoing in billowing, icy air. Do you know where she went?