take the victrola

Rough, pointed rocks shifted beneath his paws, his claws flexing and grasping like black talons to maintain his hold on the unstable earth. Loose scree tumbled down the steep grade, but he maintained his footing. He was born of mountains and ice, but these rocky cathedrals had a way of treachery against even the finest mountaineers. Bright sunlight poured down upon him from the brilliant, cloudless autumn sky, illuminating his silver cape and glinting on the ebony angles of his body. Sullen orange eyes blazed and nostrils twitched and quivered as he scented another wolf nearby. Tartok was still in its infancy, yet it was already strong. Though their numbers were small now, Kaniq knew that they would grow and expand.

Below him, a bit further down the slope, a wolf of dark, mottled earthen hues sailed over the rocky terrain in pursuit of a small animal, his attention trained wholly on his quarry as it darted in front of him, barely out of reach of gleaming white teeth. Kaniq paused and watched the drama unfold before him, interested to see which one of the pair got lucky today.