Whitebark Stream So take this feeling, make it grow.

Between careful teeth, there were stems of emerald - made complete with pristine, delicate little white flowers.

Artyom carried the snowdrops triumphently that morning, from the territory's Southwestern edges all the way back to the hollow where he'd left @Dawn to sleep in that morning for as long as she wished to. He'd always appreciated those blooms: little things, that somehow managed to find life through the worst of Winter's snowfall. For Artyom, they symbolised new life where hope was lost, and he was keen to present his bouquet to his new mate as a token of his affection.

He made his way careflly through the trees to their densite, hopeful to see her awake, and announced his return with a cheerful 'wuff'.