Shadewood but we go where we want to

The burrows were near, that much was evident - a small pile of scattered droppings were dotted around near the bushes, and the number of pawprints carved into the blanket of white grew increasingly numerous. The white queen lowered her muzzle, embracing the polar gasp of ice that settled around the tip of her nose, melting at a hot breath and dissolving into the mass of glacial beryl--

--"Gwen?"

She started, hackles prickling, but her muscles relaxed as he came into her sight. Cry, who blended into the night with a wispy silence, like a plume of smoke - for now, she could see him clearly amongst the white: a stark silhouette of black against a backdrop of snow, but she knew all too well his talents at remaining entirely hidden, masked from view. "Cry," she whispered aloud, a soft smile gracing her features and any lingering misery vanishing like the sun behind the clouds. It was so easy to hide it.

"You should have stayed in the den, I could have brought you breakfast in bed." her smile grew into a half grin, gaze glimmering in his direction.