The winter hinted at carcasses rustling under our feet; snow-blind, we invented new games in the parlor: Skin the Moose, Pollyanna Pucker, Shake Antler Fake, Scat Treason, Rag and Smack-down. The hearth sparkled but gave off little heat. Outside, the sheen from the frozen river invited the weakest of us. Tea cups. Hunters Beware.