Whitebark Stream I find myself somewhere I never thought I'd be.

At the sound of another, Artyom lifted his crown to turn swiftly in the direction that an u familiar bark had come from. His golden ears pricked forward, curious, and he relaxed at what he found.

She was young still, no doubt one of the previous year's cubs. Artyom responded to her friendly posture with one of his own, offering a bright smile and a few cheerful sweeps of his dense tail. "Hello," he greeted, licking a stray snowflake from a whisker, "my name is Artyom. What might yours be?"