Redhawk Caldera firefly is the opposite of waterfall

Raven had never felt so helpless in her life. No matter how much they dug, there was only a handful of them and it would take days to tunnel through the thousands of pounds of snow. Trying to find their way in through a rear entrance was too risky, although its viability increased with every passing hour. The Gamma hated that half the pack was trapped, with the other half stuck outside in the elements. Fortunately, the temperatures were slowly rising and perhaps that meant the snow would begin to melt.

But how long could they wait? Raven was going out of her mind worrying about the pups especially. Could they wait? How were they faring without her milk to sustain them? They had begun to wean them but they were still several weeks away from relying solely on meat. What if they starved to death down there? The Gamma paced back and forth in front of the giant heap of snow, frantic with worry, before reminding herself: You need to dig! Dig, dig, dig!

She scraped until her muscles grew too stiff and heavy, forcing her to retreat and sit in the snow nearby. Recognizing the need for food to fuel her efforts, the Gamma dashed away across the deep snow. As she scouted for something, anything, to eat, she thought briefly of her poor patient. She had pretty much forgotten about @West with everything else that had happened. With her heart lurching into her throat—how many wolves would die because of her neglect, no matter how unintentional?—and began loping to the place where she'd left the ailing stranger.