Broken Antler Fen She hangs her head and cries on my shirt

A soft dusting of snow had fallen, just enough to spread a blanket of white across the Glen where it hadn't melted in the ponds and waterways. His warm pawpads left behind a perfect set of pawprints as he crossed over the borders, leading away from the Glen and out into the wilderness with an aim that would take him just south of where the Caldera rose into the horizon, blurred somewhat by low-lying clouds. It was a fair afternoon, with the temperature hovering just above the freezing mark. He wouldn't be surprised if some of the snow had melted by the time he reached the Glen again. 

But by the time he'd reached the Fen, it had begun to snow again, and it fell in large, soft clumps, something that only happened when the temperature settled near freezing. Just cold enough to create snow, but the snow that fell was thick and sticky, and collected in beautiful, snow-globe clusters before falling lazily to the ground. There were fresh pawprints in the area, and he knew he'd come to the borders, which were fairly well established already. Despite having some misgivings, considering how their last meeting had gone, Bronco knew it was likely best to seek forgiveness; and so, swallowing his pride, he tilted his head back and called out for @Wraen. 

Of course, mid-howl, one of the large snowflakes managed to evade the soft, warm steam of breath and land right in his mouth, causing him to choke and splutter in surprise. How elegant.