Curse spring.
Pale lilac eyes strained to see through the lashing waves of falling flakes. Obsidian ears flattened against his crown, tail and skull down, the young male was little but a lanky silhouette veiled by relentless white.
The pale morning light had revealed a seasonably overcast day. Seeking sustenance to soothe his empty belly, Shroud took to the glacier to scout for anything of interest, keen eyes seeking anything that moved. He had just spotted courting ptarmigan in the distance when this appeared - a sudden, violent spring snow squall, a dazzling display of nature's tempestuous vernal mood.
He should have seen the signs, heeded the warnings. But no, he'd been too preoccupied with alleviating his hunger, too lackadaisical in his observations. He should have known better. No matter... it was too late, now.
The wind pushed against his tall, lithe frame with unrelenting force as the falling flakes quickly encrusted his guard hairs with a layer of ice. He was a silent wraith, gaze desperately trying to make out any distinct landmark amidst the churning confusion. If only he could find an outcropping or a cave - anything to provide shelter while he waited out the squall's fury. He held little concern for his safety, as he knew full well the conditions would subside, but that didn't stop the burn of annoyance from licking at his mind, a scowl subtly tugging at the corners of his lips.
The dull but otherwise peaceful day had been squandered in a near instant. One moment the crow was drifting through the sky, allowing himself to be guided to wherever the winds sought to take him, the next, he was caught up in the blinding flurry of a snow storm.
Buffeted by the winds, Arsène clumsily descended from the sky, hoping – like the dark wolf below – to find some shelter to wait out the rough conditions. He had been similarly caught off-guard, and released audible caws from both irritation and effort as he tried to navigate the battering winds.
Luckily for him, another creature had been swept up in the weather as well and although quite lean, he seemed far more sturdy in this type of situation than Arsène himself.
Falling out of the air, the crow dove straight for the wolf – a veritable port in the shitstorm – talons outstretched and aiming to grip onto the dark fur of the man's scruff for safety.
The snow was blinding, sticking fretfully to fur and lashes. The man dipped his head, turning it back toward his tail as the wind sent another round of icy daggers screaming toward his eyes. A sneer tugged at his maw, a low growl of frustration issuing from his chest. Unwise, Silas, he thought to himself, Take meteorological phenomena into consideration during your next foray!
Then, out of the colorless gloom, a black arrow struck.
. . . E R R O R . . .
Silas was catapaulted out of his thoughts as something large, dark, and very much alive suddenly attached itself to his scruff. Reflexively, his lips ripped back, erupting in a snarl of surprise as he reared back momentarily, giving himself a shake in an attempt to dislodge... whatever it was.
... RECALCULATING...
By the next breath, the logician's reasoning had come back online, and he thrust his forepaws back into the ever-growing snow.
Squinting against the snow barrage, he recognized his potential assailant as a bird. Raven? No: this was smaller, and the upper mandible didn't have the right curve. Crow. Perhaps there was unknown cause for it, but Shroud was quickly suspecting that this wasn't, in fact, an attack. Perhaps the creature was simply as disoriented as he was amidst the chaos.
"Explain yourself!" he barked tersely, freezing rigidly in place, lest unwise actions escalate the situation. Did the creature even speak in the same tongue? He didn't know for sure - he'd never conversed with a bird before.
Not unexpectedly, the wolf retaliated with a show of teeth and guttural snarl that could be heard even above the howling winds. Arsène released several more indignant caws as the man attempted to shake him off, spreading his wings to steady himself upon rocking shoulders. The wind swept under his tail, forcing him to lurch forward higher along the stranger's neck into the thicker fur behind his ears.
Explain yourself! Came a short, sharp command. Arsène clicked his beak in response close to the base of the man's skull. "Arsène be almost stripped of his feathers," he grunts, unsure if the wolf would be able to hear his hoarse voice against the gale. So, in a much louder tone, he adds, "No stoppin'! Do ye wanna freeze t'death?"
"No stoppin'! Do ye wanna freeze t'death?"
Prudent. So, the bird could speak his language, and it seemed to have some wits about it.
He wasn't too proud to protest the command - there was wisdom in it. Out here they were exposed to the bitter elements, let alone anything else that may be hidden within the unending white.
The young man put his head back down, ears back as he squinted into the rimy haze. He took a few steps, paws sinking into the ever-growing snow before he felt he spied the silhouette of a rocky outcropping. Perhaps he was hallucinating, his eyes and mind playing tricks on him as he sought shelter within this frigid hellscape, but it was worth checking out. As he drew closer on steady but labored steps, the outcropping came into clearer focus - nothing striking, just a simple shelf created by glacial debris, but it would do.
Silas found the tension in his chest easing as the rocky formation began blocking the worst of the onslaught. Within breaths, he was neatly beneath the overhang, grateful that it provided shelter, if just barely. No longer did snowflakes sting his eyes, nor accumulate on his coat. He deeply wanted to shake out his guard hairs but stopped himself from entertaining the reflex lest he dislodge the bird and send it careening back into the snowy fray.
Instead, he straightened, amethyst stare sliding to the side to scrutinize his passenger, his expression asking, Well...?
Thankfully, the man sheathed his teeth and heeded the crow's words, bowing his dark head against the wind and stalking forward. Pleased, Arsène warbled in response, selfishly shielding himself from the biting winds in the thick of the man's neck fur. As much as he wished to take to the skies to find shelter for the both of them, he knew he would not be of much use, his smaller form being buffeted around by the wild weather, and so entrusted the task to his newfound companion.
Which, upon completion, earned the man a loud, encouraging caw from the freeloader.
The wolf tucked himself against the outcropping he had found, the rocky barrier providing just enough cover for them to no longer be exposed to the elements. He caught the glint of a violet, sidelong gaze and, as if on cue, disembarked with a flutter, hopping quickly along the ground to place himself flat against the wall.
"Very good," he commended with a nod of his head, before turning to preen his feathers that were now wildly out of place. "Ye caught blind, too?" A single eye looked to the large man, studying him. "The Gods bein' none too kind today."