Rain, Sun, Wind and Snow

Does anyone ever try to eat her? o:

It was purely by chance that the black yearling had happened upon the fox while it innocently sunned itself upon a ledge. It was fortunate for the fauna that the wind was not entirely in Summer's favor, but he still hoped against hope that she'd be too lost in her thoughts to notice his scent. She hadn't yet, but that didn't mean his luck would not run out.

In truth, the Ostrega wasn't even hungry having just feasted upon a pheasant he'd stolen from a young coyote just that morning. But he was not one to pass up the opportunity to claim more for his pack's caches, certainly not with Winter upon them. And so the wolf prowled forward as silently as he could, sunlit eyes glued unblinking to her tiny, copper frame.