Fox's Glade i slithered here from eden

the scent of foxes grew stronger the further she moved into the woodland and away from the meadow, and as dusk began to seep slowly into the sky their calls grew more frequent. all around they hunted, fell prey and survived another day, another week; spring would come soon and thoughts would turn from survival to the survival of the next generation. it was something that had not yet crossed the woman's mind, besides the seemingly unrelated and irritating itch to still her paws somewhere, the slowly dying wanderlust that had been the gasoline on the fire of her youth. 

besides, it was hard to think of spring when they trudged through the coldest days of the season, now and again open skies or a slight rise in temperature would remind her of spring to come, before clouds slid overhead and the temperature plummeted once more. she huffed, pausing in her step to examine a small, reddish clump against the rough bark of a fir. fox - pungent, yet hours old.

@Rannoch