Silver Creek Dashing through the snow

In simplest terms, the blizzard had been not fun. That night, cold and hungry and with the wind whopping around them, they had ultimately come to the decision that theti ought to ride out the worst of the winter, surely to come now, somewhere safe. And while before they had passed by packs without a care, Seff had led the little group to the first hint of borderlines he had found, attempting to ignore his stinging ears. The whipping cold had done them no favour,  and while his thick fur had protect most of his body, his ears had become subject to frostbite.

he walked near Freyja, glancing occasionally too to Hvit. His head was hung lower than it ought to be, and hunger was a keen blade within him. Freyja did amazing hunting for the trio, but with his less than fabulous hunting skills and the load of feding three growing children, it was hardly enough.

a figure became apparent, and stilling his paws and lifting his stance to a more respectable position, he called out a chuffing of greeting, scenting easily now the scent markers of a pack before them.