Sex: FemaleRE: Snowmaggedon! A foot of snow has fallen overnight!
When she opened her eyes there was only white.
Curled within the confines of an old fox den that she had taken residence in Iyes blinked rapidly, trying to clean the sleep from her eyes to get a clear view from the opening of the den - but the haze just wouldn't go away. What, was she developing glaucoma already? With a grumpy huff she lifted her head and began the slow process of retrieving her legs from underneath her warm body. The movement brought toward her a puff of cold, cold air, and with a wrinkled of her nose she swung her head toward the offending wind. Due to the winning combination of a lack of coordination and general sleepy muscles, she instead ended up shoving her muzzle directly through the layer of snow covering the mouth to her den and brought a whole heap of the cold stuff tumbling down unceremoniously to cover her.
Shivers went up and down every appendage the girl had and she jolted out of the snow-piled den, tripping over her drowsy legs and tumbling into the snowdrifts on the tundra above. She rolled on to her back, kicking her paws in the air to straighten the useless noodles attached to her torso and then flipped so she could finally stand. To finish her morning grace she parted her jaws, sucked in a raspy inhale, and hocked an unlady-like loogie to clear her throat of the melting snow that had gotten into her mouth. Narrowed orange eyes watched it land basically right next to her face - the snow was nearly elbow deep for the petite she-wolf, and every way she turned her head there was just more of it.
Iyes gave a disheartened shake of her black pelt, her lips setting into a deep grimace. That was possibly one of the most unpleasant ways to wake up she'd encountered in her short life yet. Her tail thrashed with agitation in the snow behind her butt, wanting nothing more than to take a two-hour angry nap. But not here, since her den had been infiltrated. Smoldering with a case of the Mondays, the she-wolf moved forward, clearing a path with her chest and forepaws, in search of anywhere else that wasn't covered in a metric shitload of snow.