aThe snow was falling even harder, making hunting nearly impossible. Just seeing anything more than a few feet away was a challenge and he could no longer make out his mate, her short thick ermine fur making her invisible even when visibility was good. He envied her the white fur, so effective in the snow. His own coat, a grey and brown brindle that made him look more than a bit like a tall two legged lynx, was a serious handicap in the snow, though come springtime it would be another story. He knew where she was, though. They never had any trouble finding each other.
It was early in the season for such snow, and they were hunting more frequently, trying to eat as much as possibly before the urge to hibernate, already being felt as a kind of lethargy hovering below conscious thought, took over completely and drove them to their den until spring.
Movement out of the corner of his eye and He froze. Not his mate... he never saw her move unless she wanted him to. This was a snowshoe hare. Thinner than usual due to the early snow, but food. Caught away from cover, His chances were slim, and he knew it. Upright on two legs made for a good ambusher, but a chase was usually lost even as it began. Fortunately hunger made this particular hare daring. It's very last mistake, as it turned out, it's search for food sending it right past where He crouched motionless, its sense of smell telling it about the nearby predator a split second too late. They would eat tonight, though not much. Smiling, He made his way back to the den.
He slowed as he neared the den, looking for signs that anything living had been nearby. He and his mate weren't the only predators in the area, though they were the largest. An involuntary yelp, as He felt something grab his short tail. He had time only to go rigid in surprise when she trotted by him, throwing a mischievous grin over her shoulder before disappearing into their den. Years of hunting together gave them an uncanny ability to tell where the other was, but trying to sneak up on one another was a game they never could resist. Occasionally they succeeded. The addition of the tug on the tail was a favorite for both of them, as it invariably got their juices flowing, in the highly unlikely event that they weren't already. He followed her into the den, though less quickly. The entrance, not large to begin with, was nearly covered with snow and ice. Soon they would be hibernating whether the wanted to or not.
Inside their den, He noticed that a hare had been unwary near his mate as well. It was unlikely that luck was involved, though, as her fur made her a good stalker in the wintertime, whereas he had to rely on ambush and luck. In springtime that would reverse, of course. They made a good bondpair that way. They cooked their meal in silence. Though lacking speech, they were thinking creatures, and were able to communicate in a rudimentary fashion. Enough to make themselves understood as much as they needed to, and their hunting instincts compelled them to silence a great deal of the time, regardless. As they ate, their eyes lingered on each other across their small cookfire. It was clear that His juices were, indeed, flowing, and it was clear that such was her intention in sneaking up on him. They finished quickly, and just as quickly extinguished their cookfire. Moving to the back of their den, they curled up in their sleeping area, now so full of insulating material for the oncoming hibernation that it was difficult to move without contacting the other. Fortunately, avoiding physical contact with each other was not on their minds at the moment.
