Trotting on velvet claws, the arctic fox lives in a world that listens. Keeping their ears open for movement underneath the snow, they pounce into the birthing burrows of ring seals.
Trotting on velvet claws, the arctic fox lives in a world that listens. Keeping their ears open for movement underneath the snow, they pounce into the birthing burrows of ring seals.
Trotting on velvet claws, the arctic fox lives in a world that listens. Keeping their ears open for movement underneath the snow, they pounce into the birthing burrows of ring seals.
We were resting a moment by a stream when we saw him. A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. Poised to run but unsure of us, unfamiliar with humans.
We were resting a moment by a stream when we saw him. A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. Poised to run but unsure of us, unfamiliar with humans.
I think of Gale, with his velvet tread. It’s eerie how little sound he makes, even when the leaves have fallen and it’s a challenge to move at all without chasing off the game. I feel certain he’s laughing back home.
I think of Gale, with his velvet tread. It’s eerie how little sound he makes, even when the leaves have fallen and it’s a challenge to move at all without chasing off the game. I feel certain he’s laughing back home.