Big Salmon Lake great cataclysmic

Reluctant to rely heavily on the pack's remaining reserves with no end to this famine in sight, she swung back her muzzle into the late afternoon skies and howled a low melody to her packmates. She was ranging into the flatlands to the lake, wanting to see how the fishing was looking this time of year and to quickly peruse the damage in this direction for herself. They would know what to do with one less wolf normally keeping watch, or, they were welcome to join her. She was feeling exceptionally guarded lately considering the conditions and they were short a beta on the slopes for the time being, so she did not intend to be gone for long.  

This was the first time she'd left the mountain in a while but none of what she saw on her way down and out was surprising. The devastation left in the wake of the locusts was universal. Whereas the lands before the mountain had been bursting with greenery, now her scene was far removed from something that picturesque. Underfoot, it seemed so foreign all stripped bare like this and nothing about her liked it. She ranged onward with uneasiness weighing heavy on her heart.

It may still be a bit too early for the lake's namesake salmon, but there was a vague shred of hope worth something as she strode lightly up to the quiet banks with a huff of a sigh. The waters were still until she interrupted them with a few laps of her tongue to slack her thirst. Meanwhile, her hackles were prickled and her focus not yet turned to the fishing. Surely she would not be the only one with this idea and in the aftermath of such natural upheaval, she was more tense than usual. She edged on along the shoreline, watchful for terrestrial and aquatic creatures alike.