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The terrain is sloped, trending downward at a mildly sharp degree, you make a note to stay on the south side if you can. The trees are spaced apart, at a good twenty feet on average. Silver-tip fir, white pine, and lone cedars. Plenty of space to maneuver, not many places to easily hide for longer than a minute. The trees themselves have weak branches from the season, and would not support much weight. The ground is frosted, with some snow cover, but small battlefields of green rage on every so often, especially further down the slope. A few snow drifts have settled, but not enough to worry about hampering movement, and none big enough to hide behind.
You spit, trying to get the god damned copper off your tongue when blood floods to your ears. You whip yourself around at a small shuffle of something behind you and with half a dozen long, loping strides you’re behind a gnarled lodgepole pine. You wait as the irregular crunching of frost gains ground towards you. You are too experienced to peek your head around the twisted, dead tree. You hold still. Silent. A large animal, but not large enough to be what you’re after. Besides, the sun is out. Flagging maybe, giving up its supremacy of the blue to the other celestials, but its power still holds sway for a little while.
You finally make a decision. Too loud for a cougar, too light for a bear, a wolf wouldn’t make any sound. A deer then. You slowly make your way out from behind your guardian tree. As you thought, a deer, but small for a buck. <span class="mu-s">It</span> stops its shambling steps and raises its head. Blank. No eyes, no nose, no mouth, simply smooth fur up to its head. Something pushes through the skin of where <span class="mu-s">its</span> face should be. Not quite breaking through.
