Curiosity drove him from the confines of the territory, trailing along a waterway; it was not the ocean, this water lacking that familiar sting of salt, but he didn’t mind. He had no intention of disturbing its surface, fully aware of what shock awaited him with the river’s chilling grasp. But he was interested to see where it might take him, and so he followed along the bank, eyes ahead and searching—seeking out an end, although one seemed loathed to make an appearance. Rather than the river’s pooling point, he spied a mound in the piling snow, which was not entirely unusual. Yet, something about it stood out and roped in his interest, the overall appearance not quite right.

And how right he was to investigate, his increasing nearness to the mass revealing the physique of a wolf.

Aningan did not immediately see the slow rise and fall of the woman’s thinned frame—all he took notice to was how a blanket of snow was slowly coating her, and how her eyes stared ahead, dull and glassy. His body froze up, panic taking hold, then propelled forward. Without hesitation, the bear was upon her, shouting, “UkuKsi!” and, should she remain unmoving, digging at the snow surrounding her.

The shift of her gaze went unnoticed—he was far too busy digging at the snow, trying his damnedest to get as much of it away from her as he could; for as much as he pushed away, the sky opened up and cast more down unto them. It was a lost cause, his efforts futile; he wondered if he should give up, knowing not if she was even still alive—but then he heard her whine, ever so quietly, and knew he had to keep trying. She was still alive and Aningan refused to allow that to change; whilst a stranger she may be, he lacked even an ounce of cruelty in his body.

Abandoning the idea of digging the snow away from her, the male stepped forward until he was nearly standing over her. Gingerly, he reached for her scruff and, should she not resist, intended to pull her out of the snow and to the nearest shelter he might find; which, luckily for them, was not too terribly far off. There was a den nearby, abandoned by an unknown beast, that he happened to spot on the trip over. If he could just make it there and get her out of the elements, he hoped it might better her chances of survival. But, as it was, the process was a slow one—and so he tried tugging her upward, attempting to encourage her to stand and, if she had the energy, walk along with his assistance.

The efforts put forth were met with efforts of her own, however minimal. But Aningan was patient—he let her take her time and find her footing, offering his body as support. And once ready, his own movements slowed to match her pace, helping her along. It was a slow task, steps mindful, as he led her towards shelter. And when the shelter was finally reached, he remained upright with her, shielded from the winds, so that he might catch her if she fell.

“You can rest here,” he told her, watching the female carefully. Could she understand him? Was she able to hear him? Concerned, Aningan waited until she made a move before settling down himself.