At the risk of sounding like Reyes, Cottongrass couldn't help but wonder if winter was ever going to end. Because all it did was snow, day in and day out! And when it didn't snow, the sky was still a gloomy shade of grey that the sun hid behind. It was depressing. It was boring. He just wanted it to be spring or summer or something. That way he could run around all he wanted without running the risk of freezing to death or falling into a hole under the snow. Was that too much to ask for? With a childish huff he continued to pick his way through densely packed trees, big paws kicking snow everywhere he went.
And it wasn't until the trees thinned out did Cottongrass put a stop to his endless warpath, yellow eyes squinting as he took note of his surroundings. There were trees. Nothing but a whole lot of trees that he didn't feel like climbing or attacking for fun. But it was sort of hard to see anything else with all the snow in his eyes. He scowled, shaking out his coat even if he knew that the snow would just pile up again. And finally deciding he had enough—Cottongrass tilted his head back, muzzle pointing straight up at the sky. His rear wiggled and his paws stomped as he tried to position himself just so under the open sky. With all the ferociousness of a baby bunny, he peeled his lips back and bared his teeth at the falling snow.
It, amazingly, did absolutely nothing. The snow just kept falling, landing in his eyes and nose even when he gave a weak growl of protest. And the longer he held the pose the more silly Cottongrass felt. Because what if someone came and saw him? They would probably laugh at him. Or think he was crazy or something. He frowned, getting ready to shuffle into a stance that didn't embarrass him. But before he could even think of moving—
A branch snapped. The snow crunched. And Cottongrass flinched, head snapping downwards to look at whatever had just made the noise. His heart raced and he expected to see someone he knew. Like maybe it was Askan creeping around again, or Reyes staring at him with those grey eyes of disapproval. But it was neither of those wolves. It wasn't even a wolf in the first place.
Instead Cottongrass found himself gazing into the dark, beady eyes of a fat little bird with brown feathers. There was something alive and electric crackling in the air. Something that was dangerous. And it was hard to say who reacted first, Cottongrass or the grouse. But one second the entire world had gone still, and the next it was ending in a screaming mass of feather and fur. The bird launched forward and Cottongrass launched upward, straight into the air with a panicked yelp dying on his lungs.
What happened after that was a mystery.