Wolf RPG - nascence

Sunlight streamed through the tufts of rainclouds only for a fleeting second before it vanished from sight to leave the pallid creature wandering without a direction. The rain had come down in small sessions, pouring here and there before it drizzled off into something lighter and yet more constant. The wolfdog allowed his light-colored gaze to move upwards along the ridge in hopes that he could find some form of temporary shelter for the evening, if not until the next morning. The Pharaoh had been out of luck in everything he had sought up until that point.
Rain had been a blessing to the desert-dweller when he had been younger. Ankh had known nothing but love for the signs of heavy clouds and the distant roll of thunder that swept across the lands, because it had promised life. The Pharaoh did not know what this water promised. He knew that the temperature had dropped drastically, and his short pelt offered little to no help during the frigid nights. Ankh was not entirely doltish, however. The pallid-furred male knew that his life would come to an end if he continued on the path he was going down. With the morning would come a promise of a modicum of sunlight, and he could rely on this to hunt. If he could carry his own against something with a larger pelt, he could begin construction of a den that would hold potential.
Until that time, Ankh was stuck in a cold drizzle that had seeped through his thin coat and was freezing him to the very core of his being. With a violent shiver, the wolfdog jumped from the ground onto the surface of the ridge and began to climb until he could no longer climb. Once to this point, the pale Pharaoh sought the smallest form of shelter for the coming evening, and he prayed to his Gods that the rain would not continue on through the night.

The rains had been common Iately, and cold. A prelude to the snows that would come in winter it seemed. He was no Naturalist, but he could always tell how much snow would fall by the rains that came in fall. This rain was no different; piercing, sharp, and of course, wet. Kaname's thick pelt sheltered him from much of the cold, but he felt it in his bones.

The assassin climbed up the peak, following the trail of a herd he hoped to push towards the lowlands, hopefully towards Ouroboros in a while. He lost the scent in the rain, however, and sat there, snorting water out of his nose in distaste. His piercing eyes swiveled about, trying to find temporary shelter from the rain, only finding a rival in the competition for shelter. A hybrid it was, of wolf and some strange breed of dog. He said nothing to him, only going about his own business, hoping that the hybrid would not bother him.