Cassiopeia's View Popcorn tin

Down, down, down! The mountains were his least favorite place right now. He had pilfered all he could from the wolf pack living nearby, and after watching his last hunting buddy be eviscerated by a keen young wolf, Rigel knew when to throw in the proverbial towel. So off he went! Skidding over ice, leaping daintily over fields of snow, nearly killing himself as he plunged down the mountainside without care for himself. He was a springy fellow, and he had enough experience with this wilderness to know he could survive a few tumbles.

The yowling of his own kind however, was both out-of-place and unnerving. Hells bells, Rigel had just left behind a compatriot - the sight of which was burned in to his psyche - and the sound of hollering was like hearing the dead speak. He flounced around a bit before springing in to action, aiming for wherever the sound came from. It didn't smell like wolves here - so that was a plus.