A chilly breeze rustled a few fallen leaves that had somehow made their way into a mountain pass, ruffling the silver fur of a tall, lithe ferret. Icetail had wandered up into the mountains in search of shelter a few days ago, and now he was walking along a narrow pass, whistling to himself as he walked. The ferret was not afraid of drawing attention to himself. After all, what had he done? Nothing but take a bit of food, and would that really be missed? The silver furred ferret was content. He had food, he was not injured or sick, and had nothing to worry about. Icetail allowed a very small, faint smile to creep across his features as he walked along, listening to his whistles bounce back at him in the virtually empty mountains.