The smell of the womb of the Earth was strong in Tinker’s nostrils but the wind was blowing so strongly from that direction that she hesitated to turn  into it. Finally, when sleet began to pelt her and ice formed in her fur, she put her nose into the howling wind and pressed toward what had to be caves. As she struggled against the gale, she put her head down and let instinct take over. Finally when the wind seemed to have abated some, she looked up to see that an outcropping of rocks, over hung with ropey vines was standing between her and the wicked wind.<br/><br/>Tinker stopped to look at Warren to see if he could detect a cave opening from his vantage point of height. She sniffed but all that was coming now was a barrage of scents that she was having trouble distinguishing. Tinker was miserable, fur heavy with ice and her feet ached with cold. She was driven to find shelter so she pressed on toward the stones.<br/><br/>Close to the edge, some brave bushes clung to the rocks, pressing their way persistently to the light. Tinker sniffed around them, not at all offended by the scents of those who had marked the way before her. She almost didn’t notice the shift in the air temperature because she was so relieved to feel it.<br/><br/>“Warren, back here, behind these bushes. I think there is a cave. I don’t smell anyone home right now and we will have protection from the weather. Let’s go.”<br/>Tinker didn’t wait for Warren, but she barreled in to an unknown, utterly dark cave where the only sound was the steady drip drip drip from somewhere far inside.