Whitefish River And horror in the halls of stone

Hours have passed as Ulysses aimless and endless wondering takes him to many different places. He doesn't like to just settle down, he needs to keep moving. He needs to keep hunting to keep himself in prime condition. So his senses guide him to unvail a forest, where there's plenty of deer and other animals to prey on. 

This is presicly when he comes across a river. The rushing current of the violent water shields him from being able to swim to the other side safely. He's a strong swimmer and can withstand the temperatures of even some of the coldest waters but he can't fight that current.

His intense silvery eyes soak in his surroundings as he walks up the bank of this river. The water collects on him like dew when the current occasionally splashes up. He's looking for a way across and this river goes on for miles, it's impossibly wide as well.

A couple more minutes of walking allows him to stumble upon a sketchy bridge of rocks poking out of the thrashing water just enough to climb on. He's wouldn't want to risk that but if he really had to he'll keep the makeshift bridge in mind.

So he walks a ways more, a healthy few minutes when across the river he sees another mammal, a wolf he suspects. He continues padding until he's directly across the river from them. Watching as they scout the river. For what, Ulysses doesn't know.