Wapun Meadow Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

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Having travelled through the woodlands, the herd moved out into the open to scrape through the crust of the snow and nibble on the grass in the meadow, not far from the mountain range. The temperature had dropped, forcing them to come down  from the mountains where they'd be safer so that they could forage for food more safely. They traveled carefully, with his wise hind, Ginger, leading the grounp and Acer following at the rear, every now and again giving the reluctant Lupin and her yearling calf a nudge to keep them close to the rest of the group. The yearling was proving to be difficult, and Acer knew that once the summer months came, he would take the cows further south to where their rutting grounds were- and he'd do his best to get the unruly youngster pawned off on some other bull, or convince him to join a band of elk that were more his age. 

Once they reached the meadow, the bull elk and his seven does stayed close together, with the more vulnerable Trilium and Chicory sticking to the middle of the group, and the keen-eyed Buttercup and skittish Foxglove keeping watch even as they pawed through the snow's surface. The one among them who seemed more at ease than the others- and only so in the winter- was the white-pelted Daisy, who finally seemed to be coming into her own after having had a harrowing Autumn. 

And flanking the herd was Acer; the mighty Imperial elk, who stood with his still growing rack jutting out from above his temples. Of course, it would be months before his rack was fully complete, but even now it was impressive, even though it was still covered in velvet. At his prime, in rutting season, he sported 7 long, sharp tines; his brow tines had grown to be 18 inches long the previous year, and the tips of his whale tines were set so far back that he could scratch the top of his rump with them if he tilted his head back. He took pride in his status, which had earned him mating rights with more than just these 7 does he brought with him now; he'd have calves dropping all over the valley when May arrived, but these seven cows had chosen to follow him for the winter, rather than staying in the valley where they risked starvation due to the vast amount of them. 

In the gleaming mid-morning light, he watched over his small harem, chewing absently, his clever auburn gaze watching the woodlands that hemmed the meadow, knowing that if danger were to come to them, it would be from the darkness of the trees.