Wolf RPG

The howling icestorm had driven young Leshen to shelter for over a day now. He lay stiff and half-buried beside a tree for more hours than he could count, only shifting when the snow would start to cover his nose and start to suffocate him. It felt warmer to just lie there, curled up, rather than trying to do anything physical, but eventually his stomach protested the hibernation, causing the lost boy to stir.

It was daytime now, but with the sharp wind clouding almost all visibility, it might as well have been night. He stumbled tiredly out into the blind, after pausing to choose a southern direction, and spurred his pace up into a steady lope as his limbs started to thaw. Almost immediately after setting off, for a while the snow began to die down, leaving him with a pushy gale at his back and a clearer view before him, though any hunting prospects remained dreadfully absent.

He went on for an hour beneath the dying storm, though he had no hope that the break would last for much longer than that.

She should've reached the glen by now. Despite traveling this route dozens of times, the snowstorm—coupled with her grief, which drove her to distraction—caused Meerkat to take a wrong turn somewhere. By the time she caught her mistake, she'd lost a day. Now she hunched into the wind and retraced her steps, determined to focus and get back home. She'd already been gone far too long.

When the storm began to die down a little, it gave her a little hope. Although weary, she pushed onward, taking advantage of the break in the weather. It was hard to recognize Bramblepoint with all the white obscuring everything, though she could see Moonspear against the western horizon. The sight gave her so much relief, tears sprang to her eyes.

She stopped in her tracks to swipe a foreleg over her wet face, then dropped it. Before proceeding, a startled little gasp eked from her throat when she saw a dark shadow slinking through the winter wonderwasteland.