Porcupine Ridge in the doghouse

@Capriccio

Late in the morning, the soft fall of snow had stopped, and the black wolf rose from his bed to shake his coat. He had but one intention this day: to seek the alpha female. Little had they seen of each other, and each time their paths had crossed her fury could be seen and could be felt. He had given her some space, for that some of the fire may die down, some of the ice may melt, but whether it had or not he was bound not to let this unease persist.

He followed her trail at a brisk trot, and soon spied the darkness of her fur against the snow, with the sun catching on the silver that accented it. He paused for a moment, but only for a moment, before he approached. His gait was slow, tentative, and his ears were folded back while his tail, hanging slow, swayed gently.