Cloverfrost inhaled the cold morning. While unbothered by the persistent snow of late leafbare, the frigid air sliced at her nose with every breath she took. Her thick and soft fur did wonderfully for keeping her warm, but she supposed that her nose would be a lost cause. Sighing softly, she inhaled a familiar scent. Cloverfrost swerved around from where she was sitting. Glancing up at the tall tom standing not too far from where she was waiting at the camp entrance. She purred, teasingly, “It is scarcely sunrise, you know. I would not have cared waiting a tad longer.” Cloverfrost clearly held no fear for the towering tom. She met his eyes as if it were the most natural thing to her. Her seafoam green eyes glinted as the rays escaped through the trees.