Flycatcher Downs the wolf shook his coat and it snowed for days

Skwol was certain he knew the answer but inquired anyway.

"Is there anything you can tell me about this region?"

The white wolf felt that the two were kin in their reason for being here. He did not wear his tragedies so painfully on his skin — what blood there had been had since come off — but he carried them in the sundered remains of his heart. It was not a sensible time to be dispersing; only some terrible thing could make it so.