Felltree Marsh red duck

From a distance, rose-gold eyes watched the man as he paused to examine a log. Was he hunting? But Yura could smell no deer, nor any caribou. Almost on instinct did she duck behind a fallen bough, ears pricking to hear the crunch of snow veer off the beaten track. He was coming, surely - certain her cover was blown.

But when no voice came, Yuralria emerged with fur fluffed to trace his steps again, taking extra care this time to stay low and concealed. She imagined him a stag, and she the hunter, slipping into the trees where he had disappeared.