One of those smaller creatures below was Lele, who had woken up before dawn, had not been able to go back to sleep and therefore used the cooler hours to hunt for some food. Vole crop had turned out to be particularly good this season - thus after catching first three, the older she-wolf was enticed to move up the rocky path and to seek for more. 

The higher up she got, the more out of breath she grew and had to take frequent stops to rest. Reaching the spear was a no small feat for a young and fit wolf, it was truly a challenge to an older one. Occasional snacks, however, were good distractions. And soon a bigger and better one in a form of song reached her ears. Words were hard to decipher and she was not good in appreciating music anyway. However, she recognized the voice of Alaric. Her almost-only-friend at the village. 

She tipped her head back and howled for the fellow to come down and have a chat, if he wished so. Her socialization quotta for the day had not been filled yet. 

Alaric complied right away, though him continuing singing, while descending from the top floors of the mountain no worse than Barbie in the movie trailer (minus the skirt), made Lele roll her eyes. Show-off. She thought to herself, but did admit that, had she been few years younger and a less rusty model of a she-wolf, she would have felt smitten. There certainly had been time, when sarcasm and cynism had not swept all the naively romantic notions in her heart. 

"So, Mr.Nightingale," she returned the grin. "Wooed any sky-ladies up there? Or took my advice on taking chances with mountain goats?" she asked. "If that's the case, baaing might be a better bet." Under this thick layer of good-ol' yanking of Alaric's chain was a friendly inquiry on, how he was doing.