Bitsa woke up early that morning, his breath fogging the air as he rose to his feet in the snow, the land now deep in the icy grip of winter a place where he<span style="font-style: italic">thrived</span>. Back home winter meant the departure into hibernation the only creature that could be called competition to his kind, and decades of living and hunting in those icy climbs each winter had given him a fair number of tricks that most tigers wouldn't take to so easily. These tricks of course were for hunting.<br/><br/>The sky was still dark when he set out padding through the new snow with soft crunches leaving massive prints in the snow as he passed through the forest working under the cover that the evergreens provided. He was stalking now, in search of prey, and with the errily silent way he passed through the woods one could easily guess that he would find some.