Bearclaw Valley you're the voice that i like

Milana was hard at work. Over the winter she was dedicating herself to ensuring that each den was kept warm; filled with comfortable pelts as they came, and cleaned out as they were soiled. She kept the dirtied pelts in a spare den she had dug out, where they would remain until the spring's warmer weather when she could wash them without the worry of things freezing.

A collection of rabbit pelts clutched in her jaw, she moved through the snowy forest with a practiced grace when an unfamiliar scent hit her.

Pausing, she stared ahead with fearful doe eyes at the strange pale woman who stood a few feet ahead of her.