Crimson cloaked her snout, eating the colour of her snowy white muzzle as she caressed the carcass, her nose twitching dried blood off.

The takedown of her first kill filled Snow with hot sleet, she was burning like a forest fire.

Dragging the small, weak doe back to the dens was a difficult task, the corpse caught on rocks and dragged small stones along. The snowflakes battering at her eyelids from above scarcely helped either.

Barks from the dens caught the wind and travelled along with it until it reached Snow, alerting her that she was going to have company.

A scrawny plant-less earth covered Scout approached Snow, smelling her over before quickly examining her prize.

When a howl caused a tornado of sound to ring out across the den site, Snow bowed until her soft nose was covered in little snowflakes.

A large, large grey male lifting his green, green eyes towards her, stepping up onto a rocky outcrop. The entire pack was gathered, an assembly of twenty wolves.

She met the eyes of her father on the rock. The male nodded his stormy head, before lifting it to howl once more, announcing his first-born daughters place in the Hunters: as their lead hunter.