Alpine Lake pass around the coffee

The cold water was so biting, Foster began to lose feel in the very tips of his paws as he paddled towards the not so distant shore. Waterfowl in tow, the bird’s long slender neck cleanly crunched between his molars. The river’s insistent current made the journey a minute too long, lengthy legs exhaustedly clinging to brittle mud as he hungrily pulled himself onto the damp ground. He wouldn’t die of starvation today, but the rivets of burning cold running off his pelt might end him if he didn’t raise his body temperature.

Grimacing at a very unhelpful winter moon above, he stumbled to pace along the island's edge. The sting of the cold against his wet legs had him fighting the urge to tuck all four beneath his slender body the best he could, and simply eat his meal as a wolfloaf. But stopping his light jog for just the slightest moment brought a damning shiver to overtake his entire form, and he couldn't decide what was worst.