The approach of winter became more and more apparent every day, and with that the pressure one the russet woman’s shoulders feeling more and more acute. She’d gotten a lot to think about after her talk with Jethro, leading to several long walks through the woods and, especially, into the lowlands. The open landscape reminded her of her family home on the tundra – a bittersweet memory, but very fitting now that she was contemplating the practicalities of settling a pack.

She was on one of these walks when a flash of white amongst the dried grass caught her attention. Instinct made her freeze in place, crouching down to hide amongst the foliage as she narrowed her eyes to focus on the creature – a ptarmigan, already changing into its winter plumage in preparation for the snows; Yet another reminder… Though one she took instant advantage of, managing to ambush the white bird which didn’t realize its sudden lag of camouflage.

The fat bird might have made a nice meal for herself, but she decided she’d rather surprise the pups with a treat the probably hadn’t tried before. And on top of that, the white feathers had reminded her of a story she thought they might enjoy. So, as the sun started to set, Flair made her way to where Finley usually kept her boys overnight, offering up her catch with a light wag of her tail; “I thought th’ boys might like a treat, and p’haps a story?”