Catalyst poked her head out of one of the many mouths to the tunnel network. She shivered. The tunnel had provided some protection from the wind and the chill, and now here she was. Out in it once more. Snow pattered her snout, but the words of Mother hummed within her. A tiny spark of warmth to keep her going. Her claws curled, and she tucked into herself. Right. Furs first, then. After a few quiet seconds of preparing herself, Catalyst trotted out of the tunnel.

Her steps muffled by snow, at least. But that same snow blanketed sound. It would be harder to find lessers. She trotted from the tunnel, the location in the back of her mind. How could she forget it, when Mother was there to remind her? The crunch of her steps ended. In the distance, somewhere, she heard the quiet song of a bird. It wouldn't be large enough to provide much warmth, but its feathers might help.

death

violence

She spotted it. She'd followed the bird's voice to a blanketed forest, the trees long lacking their leaves. She felt a sort of kinship with the trees. She, too, was being sapped by the cold. The bird at least was painfully obvious, a pale blue caroller perched on web of dark trees. She slunk lower to the ground. It would take a well timed pounce to hit it.

Her claws tapped gently on the snow. She crawled closer. The bird still didn't notice. Closer. Beneath the tree now. It might've noticed something amiss. She wasn't going to risk it. The dinosaur pounced. She'd underestimated the distance from the bird, but her jaws still clamped on blue tail feathers. It gave a panicked twitter as they fell. She jerked her head down, so the bird hit the ground first.

Before it could recover, Catalyst delivered a quick bite to the thing's throat. Dead. She dipped her muzzle into the snow, before raising her head, checking her surroundings. Nothing around to steal it. She began the task of separating flesh from skin, made easier by her claws. She was gentle, as to not disturb the feathers. It wouldn't do to have them fall off. Mother praised her on her quick, clean kill. She left the flesh. She didn't have need for food.

Catalyst tucked the bird skin beneath the roots of a dead tree, before marking it with a slash of her claws. Her hands were beginning to grow numb. She closed her eyes, letting out a breath. She needed more. Better fur. Better protection. She moved on from her tree. If this were a forest, there were sure to be something else living here. Catalyst turned her eyes to the ground, searching for tracks within the snow. It took a half hour or more, but she found evidence of something small. She sniffed the tracks. Rabbit? She cocked her head. It was small, but it was warm and fluffy.

She glanced up, following the path of the tracks. They were meandering, and eventually joined by multiple feet. Multiple rabbits! Her heart soared. She trotted after the tracks, recounting how to hunt rabbits. Collapse entrances, dig into one. Right, she could do that.

Catalyst spotted the warren. She approached loud, letting out 'pau!' calls so the rabbits were aware of her. They, predictably fled within their burrow. The majority at least. A few took their chances sprinting off. Her head swung this way and that, darting after them. She could try for them later. Catalyst needed the furs. She shook herself out, just to make sure she could feel everything.

She approached, sniffing around, locating the tunnel exits. She stomped her foot near one, and the ground groaned beneath her. The tunnel collapsed, instantly, along with most of the others nearby. She blinked, surprised. The rabbits must've built on a fault within the cave. That took care of most of the work for her, at least. She methodically checked the other entrances, making sure they were sealed. The ones that weren't she pebble-quaked. Pacing back around to her chosen one enough to let them know she was still there.

death

violence

Catalyst'd done her duty. She double checked each entrance, made sure the snow was packed tight. The raptor circled back around to her entrance. Peering into the depths of the dark warren with a gold eye. Spotted nothing. She tapped a claw impatiently. She'd have to go in after them, then. Catalyst began to dig. And dig. She nearly missed the flash of white racing past her.

Her jaws darted out, catching the rabbit by a paw. It clawed and bit and screamed like a thing that knew it'd been caught. She placed her killing claw on it, swiftly, deftly, separating neck from spine. She nudged it aside, and moved on to the rest.

It was monotonous work. Another rabbit ran, this one she missed. It went on and on, until she reached the heart of the warren. She struck out with her claws and teeth. She missed many, but felt her jaws clamp down on three others. Catalyst didn't know how many she'd missed, but she felt it was the majority of them. Were she not in the embrace of Mother, she would've felt sad. Now, it was a momentary disappointment. A thing she quickly moved on from.

She began to separate furs again, draining the blood, slicing the flesh from skin. Were she not on the hunt, she would've hummed. Mother's song of love and happiness kept her from annoyance or impatience. Even as the work was dirty, and left her claws caked in blood. She found the joys in it. The process kept her warm, if only for a brief time. Once the skinning was done, she gathered the furs.

She dipped the furs in snow, skin side down, to wipe the blood from them. Afterwards, she tucked them within the tree roots. The worry the smell of blood would scare away lessers grew within her mind, and she made a decision to move on. She left the forest, pausing for a moment. She felt the wind. It was painful, now. This was no chill, it was pure cold, gnawing at her, driving deep into her flesh. Her body shivered, desperate for the wind breaker of the forest. But now she knew the wind's direction. She moved on, down the mountain. Downwind, hopefully, from any lessers. But she knew, at least, that there was sure to be lessers down there.

The first thing she saw was a rat. A red rat, to be specific. But the oddity of it stood out. It had very nearly no fur. The only thing she saw was a patch on its head. Had some disease attacked it? And why was it out here, in the middle of Ursa. She watched it shiver. It was freezing, as she was. She felt a moment of kinship for it. She wondered if she should even kill it. She doubted it would be of much use in Mother's view, but...it still had skin. She stood there, watching, before deciding to kill it. That, at least, would be a mercy on it. More of a mercy than leaving it out here to freeze.

Catalyst approached the shivering rat slowly, low to the ground. She couldn't take its skin. What if it were diseased? The thought of giving her pack the sickness was a choking fear. She leaned into the constant warmth given by mother. Right, she'd just kill it, then be off. She needed to warn Mother about a prospective sickness taking mammals, and stealing their fur.

She stepped on a branch. Its' crack felt like it could be heard for miles. Catalyst thought that'd be it, that the rat would turn and flee. Live another day to freeze in a different way. But the rat seized up, and let loose a tiny squeak before keeling over. Catalyst stood still. Dumbfounded. It was hard to think, to try and understand what'd just happened.

She approached the rat slowly. Expecting it to jump up and flee any second. The creature was still. Was it sleep? There was no rise and fall of the chest. Yeah. Dead. She blinked. The cold dug talons into her brain. She didn't know what happened. She couldn't try thinking. But she wasn't taking that animal's skin. Or eating its flesh. She didn't want whatever disease it had. She moved on. Mechanical, now. Find furs, take to mother. Find furs, take to mother. That was what kept her going.

She'd changed her hunting grounds, after seeing the red rat. Yeah, no way she was going over there again. She didn't want to risk disease. But whether or not this side of the mountain carried game was a mystery to be solved. Her travels led her to a caved in section of ice. She'd been about to move on, when she spotted a glittering multitude eyes in the dark. A bat?

A dark form shifted, separate from the first, and a second menagerie of eyes blinked open. Two of them, then. She could work with that. They'd no doubt seen her by now. So how was she to go about this? The first thought in her head was to strike first. It was all she had going for her. She was at the entrance, and they weren't.

She charged the entrance. She let out a roar. If the bats were scared, they might mess up, one might fall. Unfortunately for her, both flying pitch rats were well aware. They took flight, leaving the cave with a flutter of wings and gusts of wind. Leaving Catalyst to stew in her failure. She frowned, dragging a talon across the ground. She leaned into Mother's warmth once more. With a snort, she left the cave.

Catalyst moved on from the cave. She was growing tired of the cold. She wanted warmth. Eventually, she found herself near the base of the two mountains. She felt a brief warm gust. Her skin prickled. The wind must've been lukewarm, all things considered, but compared to freezing Usra, it was a revitalizing gift.

After it left, she was left with her skin frigid. It felt, almost impossibly, colder than before. She hadn't realized how bad it'd gotten. How bad Ursa had gotten to her. She was having trouble feeling anything. She turned her head towards the direction she'd felt the gust in. A hole, at the base of the cave? A tunnel? Wherever it went, it must've been warm. And so Catalyst wanted in. Warmth could mean fire.

But she'd need to finish her task first. She searched. And searched. There was nothing. Nothing but Catalyst, and the cold. Always there. Caves, she hated Ursa. Mother and her siblings were the only blip of good in this whole place.