They appeared quickly through the dry trees…running grey whispers going flat against the dingy white snow. One shouldered into another and sent him rolling…but he quickly regained his feet and the whispers continued on. They were fast. Low and stretched out, the ground they covered passed quickly. There were four. One is seen frequently, two is not unusual…but four together…I wondered at what instigated the occasion. Celebrating a kill? Sharing in the spoils? Chance? Padded feet on hard snow couldn’t be heard but the movement had caught the attention of my dogs. Instantly, two canines began to chase four canines. Worlds apart, and yet so similar. The greys retreated in haste, and my two red tinted canines were in a retreat themselves…one dictated by my yelled commands. I was greatful for the lack of contact. The odds were not in my dogs’ favor. Their fighting instinct unproven except in play. Though thoroughly willing to guard against invaders, I had quickly called them back to safety. Their job may be to protect, but so is mine. Letting them put themselves in that precarious position would not be allowed. The whispers returned to the trees and I thought the short story over. But they returned. Whispers became echoes. They again ran across the field accompanied this time by my dogs’ frantic barking. My dogs minded me, and stayed on the hay trailer, but couldn’t help themselves from alerting the world that intruders were about. Deja vu. The whispers returned to the trees, this time in a relaxed manner, bounding across the snow. What was going on? I had no chance to contemplate it further, when two of the four appeared again. Half-heartedly they crossed the snow and this time achieved the other side of the field and sagebrush covered camoflage. I calmed my dogs. I returned to my tractor and sighed. I thought of those four whispers of grey in the morning light…and wondered…Find me here!