Tracking would be a lot easier without the sharp windblown flakes stinging my eyes and covering the tracks I needed. Unfortunately it also meant that if I was going to do my job successfully it had to be right now. I shivered miserably as I looked for the shape of toes and rounded narrow heels in the snow, characteristic of bare foot prints. Did I really need such trivial things as a roof over my head and maybe a meal or two?? I grumbled as I rearranged my scarf, pulled my coat a bit tighter, and brushed snow of my gloves for the umpteenth time. "This is definitely the last time I'm hunting snow angels anywhere outside of the tropics", I promised myself.