Silverlight Terrace reflections still look the same to me

There hasn’t been much to slow the brute down. He never had a destination in mind when he’d been forced out of his home. He doesn’t have a travelling companion to keep him company and help make decisions and he never quite felt the urge to try and find a place to rest his head more than one night in a row. He keeps himself fed and rested as best as he can with one eye open at night and, for what he’d considered good luck, has managed to travel without too many problems. The occasional wolf, unhappy with his proximity to claimed lands, would give him some grief but he often found his way out of it one way or another. Now, he keeps his distance great at the first sign of claimed territory.
 
He’s crossed through the taiga and the tip of the mountain, nearly touching the coast, but he finds his pull further inland. The ocean does little for him and without the great body of water looming over him he feels his feet on steadier ground.
 
The terrace has temporarily caught his attention as he moves through another sleepless night. They’ve come and gone here and there and he often wonders if he needs to settle down somewhere, putting his paws down in a place and devote himself to. Not having his family—or wolves he’s known since he was born—around have been a weird several weeks and he doesn’t have them to count on anymore. He doesn’t even know where they’ve all gone and finding them seems unlikely. He certainly doesn’t know where he’s going with the rest of his life and he can’t seem to care too much.
 
The view of another, however, catches his attention and his ears perk forward to listen. Her movement is only caught by the moonlight reflecting upon her fur and he rumbles low in his chest. With a few large steps, he moves to make himself visible so not to startle and chuffs a friendly greeting in her direction.