Silver Creek our ghosts will wander all of the water

For a while they followed the creek in silence. It ran quickly enough that the only ice it had gathered stuck close to its banks in spiderwebs of frost; every so often Brig paused to lap at the liquid. Might as well make the most of it while he was here; it was hard to gauge how much snow he could get into his mouth without potentially freezing something vital.

It was during one of these stops that the sweep of his ear finally caught something. He paused mid-drink, lifting his head as water dripped from his chin fur, remaining eye blinking rapidly against the cold air as he tried to figure just who or what had produced the noise. It was far enough away that he couldn't see or smell anything at first, but as he squinted into the sunlight the figure finally became visible; a wolf. patterened nearly perfectly to blend with the snow, blue and black and white.

There seemed, unfortunately, to be no prey on offer, but Brig's left ear still angled forward as he turned his body in the stranger's direction and started padding towards them.

"What are you," Adéwalé asked, and then seemed to notice what exactly they were heading towards. Brig craned his head to look at him; the jackdaw ruffled his feathers, peering in the stranger's direction, and sighed. "Just be careful."

"Of course," Brig said, brightly, and recieved a flat stare for his trouble.

He turned his head back, still sniffing curiously at the air, but there didn't seem to be any pack scent around and he felt mostly comfortable trotting up to her, leaving a couple feet of distance between them, just to be safe. "Hi there," he greeted cheerfully, while Adéwalé watched cautiously from his back.