King Elk Forest the cold earth slept below

Wick turned quick as a flash to face her potential foe. The loud call had frightened her—as most everything did—and she eyed the young wolf warily. She let out a growl, a warning to stay away. It was an empty threat, for Wick would flee rather than fight unless she had no other choice. It was winter now. She did not want to fight, for it would waste precious energy. Sometimes she wished she were a bear so that she could hole up all winter and sleep the cold away til spring. Her breath fogged around her muzzle as she continued to crouch and watch.