Sheepeater Cliff And wound up sleeping on the floor again

The climb up the steep cliffside had been pressing. A challenge that Keyni accepted with silent determination. She had not been raised amongst grand, mountainous peaks and did not know the terrain as intimately as some. But the aspiring young wolf found that each time she was perched at the top of a summit, her breath was stolen away. There was so much beauty. The views were like none other, never to be found in the flat lands or the forests. The sheer feeling of isolation and wholeness engulfed her every time. But the hardened rock beneath her paws and the occasional tumble of a loose stone always reminded her that one miscalculation would lead to a wolfs death.

She had come up all this way out of curiosity, with the slightest of hopes that a vulnerable youngster would be in amongst the rams. But the big male was on guard, a formidable sentinel there to watch his herd. With a silent sigh, Keyni prepared to resign herself and move on. To possibly find a peaceful spot where she could soak up the view. But then a bleating cry of distress and the swearing voice of another. She turned just in time to see the flash of golden eagle feathers and wooly fur tumbling down the edge. Another wolf had bore witness to the murder, quick to descend. Seemingly unhurriedly, Keyni approached the ledge and peered down with calm green eyes, watching the standoff between avian and canine. Eagles were not to be trifled with, but against two wolves, a single bird might back off. Picking her way carefully down to the site, the Tundra mix approached from behind the eagle, effectively pinning it between herself and the three legged white female. The picture of stony composure with her head held low, she uttered a hollow growl.