Fox's Glade Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true

She didn’t look to see the expression on his face, else she might have noticed his hesitance. With a gruff growl she surged forward, head low and tail fanning the air behind her. 

A bear in the summer, she wouldn’t dare touch; but a bear lost beneath a blanket of sleep? An easy target. She did not consider that it might be a coward’s victory, nor did she consider that it might be result with a fool’s defeat- she pictured in her mind’s eye what the skull would look like, and deep within the black pit of its gaping eye hole, she felt something calling to her. 

She stiffened when she saw a drift of snow- or what looked like one- with a slender line of darkness at its base. Carefully, she drew closer, cursing the crunching of snow beneath her feet. She perked her ears and listened, and when the birds fell silent, she could both hear and smell the steady, slow waves of bear’s breath. 

She looked to Ancelin. The bear slept; now, they needed the courage to slay it.