Silver Creek Life's too short not to live it up a little

Mawk frowned as he pushed his paws through the gathering snow. He despised Winter. His fur wasn't the thickest, and it did little to keep him warm. The wolfdog knew where he was going. He needed a pack - that much was obvious. If he didn't find one he probably wouldn't survive the harsh winter months, as much as it irritated him.

His mind was messing with him again. Part of him wanted to be arrogent and try to survive on his own anyway, and the other side was trying to reason with the other. I'll be dead if I don't. He murmered to himself. Finally he approached pack borders. He didn't recognise the smell, but he didn't care. Any pack would do.

Cautiously he glanced over the edge but there were no wolves in sight. Huffing to himself, he let out a howl to hopefully bring some wolves over. The cream dog wasn't the most social of creatures, but if he could join then maybe he could busy himself with marking the borders or something.