Mudminnow River if i didn't know better

uktark broke the ice at the river’s edge with a measured step, lowering his head to drink. the cold bit his tongue, sharp and clean. as he lifted again, water slipping from his muzzle, he caught the pale shape beyond the bank—
for a heartbeat, he thought it was his moondancer.
his body stilled on instinct alone. breath caught. eyes narrowed.
no.
the scent was wrong. lighter. older, but not by much.
his gaze tracked farther up the valley then, finding the smaller male beyond her, the sound of his call carrying thin across the snow. friendly. careless. smaller than uktark by far.
he did not answer.
did not move.
he remained half-shadowed by the river reeds, water darkening the fur at his chin, watching both figures in silence. measuring distance. reading posture. letting the current carry his scent or hide it, as it pleased him.
winter watched with him.