The melting of the snow on the lower lands signalled the end of winter. This was usually a time of year the girl would dread knowing there was no hole deep enough, no bush so concealing that it would shelter her from the wrath of the other females in her pack. It would seem it was not a fate she would need to endure this year, and so the brown wolf allowed herself to relax. She found herself atop a boulder with a beautiful view out over the slowly thawing lake with a contented sigh. Her winter coat had come in late, and already it was shedding with a vengeance. Slowly more wolves had come to join them, although the girl preferred to keep out of their way. By rights she knew she sat at the top of the totem pole (for now), but she wasn’t about to go throwing her meagre weight around in any way that might jeopardise that.
Her eyes were half closed when the wind changed directions, brining with it a masculine scent that caused the woman’s eyes to shoot open as a yelp left her chest. To watch her one could assume she had been electrocuted with the way she lept up, her fur standing on end and her spindly legs splayed about so that although she seemed to be standing, she was doing so precariously.
Was it the sun that beat down on her with such fury? Had the comfortable warmth actually come from a wildfire in the making that had ignited itself on her pelt? She began to pant in her panic, completely negating the fact she could smell no smoke, the awkward bundle of fur and bones flung herself into the frigid water of the lake.