Silver Creek marshmallow

Her paws moved gently over the snow, sleepy eyes drifting upward as a new flurry of snow showered down from above - it was cold, and beneath her pelt she gave a light tremble, but she marvelled at how delicately beautiful the snowflakes were. So small and yet so full of detail, like careful carvings in a painting of glass; a beryl-hued flake landed on the tip of her brown nose, and she watched it melt at her warmth.

"I do hope so," Daivya smiled, continuing to follow him deeper into the territory until a question prodded at her mind, and she hesitated before politely voicing it, eager to listen to his conclusion. "Is there a certain area specific for storing herbs, or would it be wise for me to create one?" Perhaps she could find a hollowed out log, or an empty burrow.