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

The Rex was the first to move, and the Regina followed. From the den came the unmistakeable scent of bear musk, the stale breath of a slumbering giant that spilled out as Ancelin shouldered aside the draping boughs that protected the hibernating creature from the cold-

But not from Bearclaw.

She squinted at the scent, peeling her lips back and realized that they were suddenly dry. She raked her tongue across her teeth as she slid forward, eyes glinting as she peered into the darkness, bristling with anticipation. 

From within- the rasp of breath. In the darkness, black velvet that absorbed the light that touched it. As her eyes adjusted, she noted the arch of shoulderblades, the shuddering of ribs that rose and fall in an unstable pattern. 

Her eyes widened. 

Ancelin, she’th-