Winter yawn and scrabbled for purce on the frozen ground. She fluffed her ruff and stood up. Winter trots softly over to a hunk of meat she hid behind a tree. The cold food is hard to chew, but filling. Winter laughs at the weather. "I can not be like this. Cold?" I says to her self as a gust blows though the camp. Her father name her after this. He should have been named winter. He is the one that is cold and caluculating. She finishes her meal and slips out of camp as the pack starts to stir. 'Bye sleepy-heads' Winter thinks as the camp disappers behind her. Winter speeds up slightly as she sees the border in the distance. The sun shines off the snow and the large plain her pack lives of sparkles in the dawn. She wags her tail and breathes in the chilly air. As Winter canters along, the snow softly starts to fall. Her silver coat slowly gets a dusting on her shoulders.

Alpine waited by the border curled up deep in the snow, nearly buried in the snow. It was quite warm under the snow. He let ou a huff blow light snow off his face. Hearing the snow batter like paws he jerked up eyeing the borders misty wall. Alpine woofed, ears alert as he focused on whoever was coming up. "Winter?" He woofed again letting his tail wag uneasily.

Softly, Winter's paws crunch on the snow. Or, an atempted softness. The top of the snow froze slightly over night, leaving a brittle crust behind.

"Winter?" She hears from a masuline voice.

"Yes?" Winter asks the voice. Stepping to the border, she peers into the mist. A brown lump hides in the snow.

"Alpine?" Winter asks him. Padding to the log, her frount paw is held in the air, ready to pounce if there is a thret.