It was close. So close. So unbelievably close that he wasn't actually entirely sure if he or the fox passed by his chosen finish line first or not.
(At least, that's what he told himself, because his pride didn't allow for any other result that may or may not require him to make an admission of defeat.)
Trick slowed, veering slightly away from the smaller mammals so that he could recover without them seeing the way his sides heaved. Of course, there was no mistaking the sheen of sweat that covered his cream-colored coat. Unless...
He flopped over and rolled a bit in the snow; this cooled him off and would also disguise his sweat. He couldn't allow his opponents to think they had actually challenged him. He rolled back over and pulled himself up, stepping in the sandy puddles where his flames and body heat had melted away much of the snow.
He ignored the other two; as far as he was concerned, they no longer existed.
(Should we go another round of two for interactions, or just close it here?)