Larksong Grotto nagrulik-atuun

With the chilled air outside of the grotto pitching howling fits and the air within smelling strongly of rot, Kigipigak was ignorant to his present company. The darkness at the back of the cave as well as the spoils did well to hide the coywolf, leaving Kigipigak to pace for some time. He stopped when the slightest shift occurred in the wind; the howling ebbed to a less pronounced whistling and he paused, pivoting to look upon the cavern's mouth.

As he approached it to peer outside there came a creaking sound, then a snap, and he withdrew in time to avoid a falling branch laden heavily with snow. Kigipigak recoiled. He sank to his haunches and shook his head, bits of snow falling from his snout and shoulders, some pine needles having billowed in along the floor from the collision. The branch was propped across the grotto mouth. 

He grabbed at one of the smaller prongs of wood jutting off of it and tugged experimentally, and while it shuddered to the effort it was snug where it had been wedged by gravity. Kigipigak huffed and moved away from the entryway, choosing to retreat deeper in to the grotto to wait — and at the last moment caught the warm, spicy scent of something alive in his nose, but could not see anything.

Perhaps he was imagining things.