Porcupine Ridge The silver of a lake at night

Maybe @Illea or @Novak since Farstep hasn't met them?

The wound nestled in the place where shoulder met neck pulled with each broad sweep of the adjoining limb. It did little to slow the wolf in his steadfast patrol, but served as a constant reminder of the danger in underestimating another. He'd allowed the young scent of his adversary to cloud his judgment and he was bitten for it. He wouldn't allow such a small wound to hinder him, but it was a tricky wound that evaded his ministrations by being just out of reach of a twist of his head.

So the fur matted there, caked with a thin layer of dried blood that pulled at the roots if he moved too vigorously. He swung his head to the right, lips twitching with discomfort, to survey the north-western peak. Beyond it he knew there was a sheer drop ending in a plateau that reached out over the lowlands, and he considered returning to that place momentarily to seek some rest, but knew his place to be here, with his pack.

He twitched his slender ears back and pressed on along the well-laid borders.

Novak had been learning the territory of his new pack, when he smelled the scent of older blood. He had been aware of the fight between the neighboring pack, but happened to be on the other side of the territory when it first broke out because he was familiarizing himself with the other end, him joining only the day before. He assumed the wound was from the battle, and his ears perked with curiosity. He followed the unseeable trail to Farstep, a wolf he had yet to be introduced to. 

His posture turned submissive, and he slowed his pace upon seeing the other male, and coming to a stop a few feet away. The brute made little sound when reaching his destination, and tilted his head to the side, pondering about the other wolf. His eyes glowed with curiosity and he cleared the back of his throat.

The impatience that wore at him soon reached a head and he twisted and snaked his snout, clapping his jaws futilely in an effort to—what? Catch his own flesh and turn his head further? Even Farstep knew it was no use and let his head drop on his thin neck, an agitated huff curling from his nostrils. He padded along in discomfort, only halfway focused on his surroundings, at least until he spotted the approach of another.

The wind brought information to his quivering nose quicker than sight, and Farstep knew that he was looking at competition. While Novak's place in the ranks wasn't one of merit just yet, he was another mature male wolf with more than just a year under his paws. Like Terich-mir, Novak was bound to be on the receiving end of Farstep's posturing much more readily than the females and Anwyl were. Unlike Terich-mir, Farstep couldn't be certain yet that this wolf was of less use than himself. The beta's features tensed and his body rose in dominance. His tail swept the air over his hips, raised yet loose, and his ears pressed forth into a sharp curve over his scalp.

As the man drew nearer, his salt-and-pepper coat and hefty physique became clearer and his blue eyes stuck out like exotic gems. Farstep met them readily with the deeper blue of his own, but it all seemed pointless. Novak didn't attempt to challenge him, but folded into submission, and the beta male responded by relaxing. Not completely, for he scarce knew this wolf and couldn't afford to take chances on completely lowering his guard, but enough that he no longer appeared high strung. He craned his neck, ears pushed even more insistently forward, and wriggled his nose in an effort to capture further information of the nearby male.

"Hello," the silvery wolf greeted, his voice low and gruff. This was a new wolf he had yet to meet, but was aware of his rank and name. This was Farstep, the Beta of their pack. He continued to show his respectful stance and didn't move a step closer towards him. Novak was a cautious wolf, because of his multiple disputes in his past, even if he wanted to be comfortable in the Ridge, his body wouldn't allow him. He was constantly on the look out for anything that would hurt him, even if the chances of the multicolored male to attack him was low. Especially with his submissive state and no challenge being proposed.  

He became focused with the Beta's wound in a hard to reach area, and he once again assumed it was from the dispute broken out by Ryjuin and themselves.

Sorry for the short response

Actually, nobody knows Farstep's name, not even him, because he can't understand speech nor speak himself! ^_^

He snatched his ears back when Novak grunted at him, then pressed them forward again questioningly. He tilted his snout down ever-so-slightly to view his fellow wolf straight on, but gleaned no understanding from Novak's eyes or body language, which was nearly unreadable due to stillness. Farstep's self was still as well but for the continued welcome wag of his tail, indicating a lack of severity. He canted his head to glance at the sky, noting the sun's progression absently, before glancing back at Novak, who continued to do not much of anything.

The beta male grunted a delayed response, then rolled his shoulders and broke into a trot. A side sweep of his muzzle toward the wolf's shoulder, where he aimed a companionable nip, was all the invitation he gave. Whether Novak joined him on border duty or not was his call, for the beta wolf was on the move with no signs of stopping.

Forgive me! I apologize, just rule that part out.

Novak cocked his head to the side, had the wolf not heard him? He hadn't spoken at all but his body language admitted silently that he head heard his greeting. Finally, he responded with a grunt instead of a word. This interested Novak, but he didn't mind. The still male was nipped on the shoulder as an invitation to join him in patrolling, and he nodded before associating them side by side to continue rounds.

No worries, easy mistake to make! I just call him Farstep for reference because "the wolf" by itself would get boring fast. ^_^

Novak accepted his invitation and for a short time, the pair of males moved parallel to the borders. After a time, however, the landscape's perfume changed subtly, becoming fishier and mustier, and the beta wolf paused in his tracks. Though there were no immediate signs of it near the pack territory, and though he found no tracks upon scrutinizing the snow, he could tell a bear a mile away, and perhaps that's how far it really was.

His ears pricked forward and his coat bristled slightly as he scanned the mountain beyond their home, but the grizzly was further even than Farstep thought, and did not show itself in the pre-spring warmth.