Hushed Willows shelter

paging @Reek @Jhala @Tapat @Astik @Dagfinn @Tambourine (and anyone else I forgot) are welcome to join in. <3

It was frickin' cold. Not just normal oh hey look there's snow on the ground and falling from the sky cold. No. This was lung-stabbing, ass-clenchingly cold. Something somewhere had clearly taken offense with the Teekon Wilds (repent, whumpers) and was now making it cold enough for a snowball to actually have a chance in Hell. 

The young wolf was tired from travelling and hungry from weeks spent scrounging for scraps and small game. It wasn't necissarily a life, but it was living. Now there was literally nothing around. Every small animal was huddled in their nice cozy dens. She envied them as she plodded along, slowed by the buffeting wind, and blinded by the blowing snow. Circumstances were dire, but she didn't want to fall into the trap of despair. The second she acknowledged that her situation was growing more problematic by the day, the sooner she succumbed, so she refused to believe it.

When her stomach growled she growled back and broke into a blind run with her head ducked against the snow. She sprinted over the drifts and crashed dramatically through a curtain of willows. Her feet caught awkwardly as they transitioned from snow to bare ground and she stumbled. Moonbrook cried out in alarm as her rear continued forward, propelled by her previous momentum, upending her onto her back until she skidded to a stop in an awkward heap at the base of the willow. 

She stared up unmoving, resigned to her fate as a stupid furry popsicle.