Northstar Vale Snowbound playground

The wolf dropped his leg back to the ground, lifted his head and peered across the valley at the base of the ridge. From their vantage point, the pack wolves could pick out a great many things in the enclosed vale, and a playing wolf was no exception. Leaving the snow yellowed in his wake, the beta male departed the fringe of his territory and began picking his way through the snow melt toward the fair dark creature in the distance. His steps were taken with swaggered grace until he wound down into the vale's center, where the river yawned widest and the sparse trees grew even thinner, and was soon near enough to smell the immature female on the breeze.

His intent upon descending had been questionable, but upon learning she was not a receptive female from the ambient smell of her glands, Farstep decided to make no effort to lead her back to the ridge. They had enough yearling females there already. Instead, he settled himself on his haunches, close enough to watch but not necessarily close enough to be inviting or threatening, and observed with an arched brow as she flung a lemming into the air and snapped it up, somehow without choking herself.