Rats. Journey usually wouldn't bother to waste her energy, especially if at the time she was in the north, on a kill this small. Yet the depth of this year's cold had forced her and the prey southward. These rats happened to be quite plump and so, though she had not become starving, would not pass up a chance of food, however small. It was not the season to be picky.

She prowled, quiet and low along the dark trees. Ready for the coming chase until these rats brought the scent and eventually, sight, of a wolf which they presented their gifts to. Strange. But the journeyman had lived many lives and seen many things.

Do those belong to you? She lifts straight and comes out from her cover. The little wolf before her was quite cute - seal point with speckles of stardust on those dark points.