Silvertip Mountain i'm so sick of being sober

@Zaria but otherwise AW for STM members

There was a certain stillness in the air around him. The sky was dark with gray clouds and the ground had a light layer of snow upon them, smooth and unmarred other by the sunken pawprints made by the stark black wolf. The wind blew softly, ruffling the ebony canine's thick, feathery coat before settling to a complete stop. All was still; nothing moved except for the wolf. He took a step forward, head high and inhaled the cool air sharply, tasting the sweet scents of the mountain. Sleek muscles rippled underneath his swarthy coat as he moved forward with the elegance of a panther stalking its prey; he moved with strong purpose.

Ten minutes later, he was greeted by the strong smell of scent markers, marking the edge of wolf territory. The youngster stopped sharply, cautiously tasting the air once more, velvety ebony ears swivelling around to catch the slightest noises and pawed the ground with a right paw, making a deeper indent in the stark whiteness of the soft snow. The wolf licked his lips, ears pricking as he took another few steps forward until he was close, but still a good, respectable distance away from the borders. Dark eyes scanned the horizon warily, but with a small hint of amusement, as if sharing an inside joke with himself.

Tilting his proud ebony crown into the air, the wolf let loose a warm, melodic howl, calling for the Alphas and members of this pack. Then he eased himself into a relaxed, but still rather tense and wary position. Eyes piercing and sharp, ears alert. His posture was respectful but strong, showing that he was not a weakling. There, he patiently awaited to be attended.