Big Salmon Lake Dashing Thru' the Snow

'Were you hunting?' Oh yeah, this canine was definitely a little slow. Or maybe just very young and naive. Nynka mentally bet on both, at the moment. Her paws didn't miss a beat in their rapid blur of motion, though; tiny they might be but they seemed to be making up for it at least a little with speed as she scootched around to the wolf's other shoulder and got busy throwing snowflakes up and away from that side. Yes, she said, restrainedly only rolling her eyes a little bit. I was hunting mice. That's the best way to get at them when they're burrowed deep underneath the crust of snow... Ususally. She did pause for a moment now, as she smirked at the foolish young wolf. Perhaps it took a bit more finesse to make it work than this gangling canine possessed.

Not that Nynka should be too smug— she hadn't quite managed to get ahold of the beastly little rodent herself either, after all. She chalked that up to the interference of this galumphing fool, though. There was indeed something rather endearing about his aping of her hunting technique, though. Incompetent though he might be Nynka thought that he was on the right track, at least; if he kept practicing perhaps he might move his genetic dial closer to perfection and make himself at least half as competent as a weasel, she optimistically predicted. Hold still a sec! Nynka sat back on her haunches and contemplated her handiwork with her head tilted to one side and her forepaws dangling idly in midair. Y'get a lot less wet chasing mice, at least, though I wouldn't say no to a refreshing bite of cold fish. But they're all just a little frozen right now anyhow. There, now try, she ordered with abrupt authoritative brusqueness. Depending on just how clumsy the canine was if he did manage to free himself, Nynka held herself poised and ready to leap precipitously back out of the way. Especially given his earlier clumsiness she definitely wouldn't put it past this canid to cause a miniature avalanche in the process of laboriously extracting himself, here. She wasn't going to trust him to be appropriately cautious of her mostly still-safely-warm-and-dry coat.