Silvertip Mountain look well, o wolves

The scent was horrifying and it clogged his nostrils up until all he could taste on his tongue was fear. Fear for his pack, for himself, and most of all for June. He had caught it on a chance downward wind, but now the wind was changing, and he knew that would mean he was in grave danger if he didn't move. He had never before seen a cougar, but his instincts were driven wild by the scent, clearly an innate age-old reaction.
 
Mason sucked in a breath and cast around wildly, trying to make sense enter his panicked brain. He had been moping around with little thought for anything besides Zari and her new beau. Now he had to think and he couldn't even recall where his was. His Dad's call urged its way through the territory. Without thought, Mason dropped what little sense he had and galloped towards the sound, his wispy tail tucked beneath his tummy. All he wanted in that moment was his Daddy.

He ran without thought or reason, straight towards his Dad. Unfortunately for Mason, he didn't realise until he saw it. He skidded to a halt, raising a comical cloud of grey from the earth which dusted the mountain rock. Orange eyes widened to dinner plates as he took in the smooth gunmetal grey pelt. He held his breath to avoid whimpering as he realised that the beast cut him off from Steady, Chaska and FitzDutiful. They were less than 30 yards away, but it may as well have been a canyon between them for all that he could not reach them. A canyon with teeth and claws.

Trying not to make any more noise, Mason's paws instinctively backpedalled him, as he kept as close to the ground as he could, making himself less of a target.  The only benefit was that thing was nearer his Dad than Mason - maybe his saviour could take it out before it turned on his son.