Otter Creek closing time

The mountain may have been fat, but it was far from lazy. It was patient and enduring- waiting for the appropriate moment to spring and strike. The female continued her pursuit along the base of the mountain, taking her advantages when able in the form of a rising stone or jutting rock. Each ledge taken underpaw to elevate her to the ideal height above him; not too pronounced but enough that she could spy the ridge of his back, the fine hairs as they caught the striking winter light. He was a force on the meadows, this she could not deny. But she had the advantage of the ideal terrain on her side, and though her mastery was not absolute, it was enough to gain her a lead in their chase. She bound from a jutting stone to take flight then land nearest to his thigh. Her muzzle shot out with a quick snip in hopes of catching him just as the base of his tail. She whined in mirth assuming her tactic had rewarded the prize of pale fur. Though if it did not she doubted she would have been any less thrilled. It had been a considerable while since she had a run like this. And dare she admit… it was fun.