Wild Berry Meadow And that's called jazz!

@Star

Ok, so, the snow had stopped being fun. Snow, he decided, was fun when it was nicely laid on the ground and the sky was clear, not when the wind was howling and the flakes were coming down in clumps. The excitement that he had from the feeling of the snow under his paws disappeared the longer he spent outside. He nipped at the snow clumped in the fur between his toe pads, shivering as he trod towards the dark woods to the southeast. He smelled no strong signs of wolf there, no trace of a pack inhabiting what was now his one refuge from the deluge. He cursed at himself, for coming so far north, for ignoring the signs of a storm coming through, for acting like a child when he should be putting down his roots or deciding to leave.