Great Bear Wilderness Precious and Fragile Things

Every motion the canid took across the landscape was one of fluidness and sinuosity, where his limber legs would stretch his joints loosely. Dovev had set out on his explorations once more in a bound, crossing miles at this breathtaking space. He had traversed over ridges and dips in the land, but always stayed in open space. Dovev found that he reveled in the ability to sense anything more clearly when his surroundings were not punctuated by trees.
Confidence surged as the icy beast's frame plunged down a stream embankment and into a tributary. Water splashed like a cool wind against his white chest and pillars. The brook was wide but shallow, and only his ankles were submerged. Freedom pushed adrenalin through the brute's veins, and he felt the eagerness that comes with adventure. Although Dovev had only left Kaibab and Blossom Forest because of being disposed, the large brute was always looking for his next victims. And every movement he had taken was all part of a greater plan. Soon, very soon, the male would have someone under his vices. Dovev had once been described as overbearing but a powerful, and decisive alpha. His replacement in his former pack had only been when Dovev had been weakened by a skirmish with his foolish and now dead sibling, Brenan. Oh, foolish indeed. The very memory brought a smirking growl to his lips.
Crossing the water, Dovev found his legs being dried by swaths of grass as he slowed his gait to one of a rambling trot. The titan's spine was straight down to his aloft tail, which floated behind him and swung with a hint of jauntiness. With an upward muzzle, the brute began to filter the important discrepancies toward in the air. Slowing to a halt, the male had picked up some rather.. curious perfumes. His maw brushed the earth and grass at his toe nails. There, he could detect the scent gland markings of others. To his left was the beginnings of a mountain, and there was traffic along this game trail. Used by wolves, it seemed plenty of them had turned up here and into the pine forests and ridges clinging to Silvertip Mountain. Farther ahead, he could detect a pack boundary up on a plateau, but it seemed someone had claimed this much closer landmark. With a flicker of interest, Dovev began to walk down the beaten grass path that wound to the base of the mountain. It was a slow and cautious gait, although his banner had been lifted above his back. The tip of his tail pointed hellwards, a sign of his careful but bold moves towards the prevailing smell upon the cliffs.