Whitebark Stream I'll send a postcard to you, dear

Icy water collided with her front half, seeping through her winter fur as Yuralria toppled head-first into the stream. The cold sucked the air from her lungs and for a brief, scary moment, she forgot entirely how to breathe. This was the end. Moondoe would not find her body out here in the taiga, far from the warmth of her ulaq. 

Fortunately for Yuralria, the stream here was not deep enough to submerge a wolf beyond one's ankles and, with a few clumsy scrabbles, she emerged bedraggled and chilled to the bone. Only to realise she had an audience. 

"The hell," she muttered, cheeks flaming as she shook the water from her pelt. Who were these two? Yuralria had been too consumed in her own dramatics to catch much of their conversation. Rosewater eyes flicked from a sullen, mountain of a woman to one of more regal stature who's eyes betrayed her concern. "Who the f-f-fuck are you?" By now, shivers had begun to wrack her body but the stargirl drew herself up as tall as she could in an effort to conceal her misery from her mysterious onlookers.