Dragoncrest Cliffs like an old guitar worn out and left behind

 trade help? Anybody? Bueller?

The temperature was slowly shifting towards the warmer spectrum, and she could finally feel the chill receed from her tired bones. She blinked open tired eyes—her mouth fell slack in a yawn and, once she shut it once more, she rose to stretch each limb and get the blood flowing once more. Her stomach growled and she heeded it with a casual twist of her ear. A few of the pack still lingered, slumbering, in the caverns. She observed the steady rise and fall of one shadow's hide, but couldn't place who it belonged to. @Dio, perhaps, but there were many pale wolves among the Drageda that it was difficult to tell them apart in the darkness. 

Tirgatao stepped down from her ledge and wandered towards the exit that led out to the beach. She was greeted with a blessed calm vision of rolling waves, and gently blowing wind. The snow drifts were already receeding from the cavern mouth, and the remains of the carcass they'd hauled in a while ago was long discarded to the wayside by some well-meaning individual. The pale she-wolf smiled and drank in the sight of the variable clouds, and the dark sea, thankful to have made it through the worst of the weather.

She turned then with a crick in her tail and chuffed a warm woof to whoever might open their ears and hear her elation at the sight of such good tidings after so much hardship.