Silver Moraine Where Do I Go From Here?

A cry of frustration, angst, and surprise pulled Rickon out of his feeding stupor. He picked his head up, listening as his tongue drew thoughtfully across his chops, catching a string of deteriorated tendon from his chin. Once the echo of it had died down, the dark male quickly resumed gorging on the half-rancid sheep carcass he had chanced upon; and when he had had his fill, he took a large chunk and began to carry it onto the treacherous Morraine. 

Part of him realized he wasn't likely to find the source of the panicked howl, but Rick wasn't daunted by the task regardless. It gave him an opportunity to explore, and if he didn't find anyone he still had something to eat, so he didn't see a downside to having a look around. It was sheer dumb luck that he'd happened upon a few drops of blood that eventually graduated into an entire trail that led directly to the where a wolf had taken an unfortunate tumble. It was easy enough for the tall wolf to pick his own way down, and once he was level with the young she-wolf, he dropped the meat he was carrying and adjusted his body language to "friendly" with a polite shake of his coat.

"Was that you that cried out a bit ago?"