Redhawk Caldera It's a long way down

He was grateful for the spring. A heavy rain poured down, still the cold, wet of winter, soaking his pelt and making the old warriors injuries ache. 
He hadn't heard from Black Hat in roughly a week, the scents on the borders were fading again. Still- he couldn't see himself leaving the area. It was good territory and the prey was returning. 
He made his way through the timbers, cresting the harsh, Rocky terrain. He was lonely, a sensation he never thought he would experience.
A noise captured his attention to his left, a grunt- squealing...he almost whooped for joy. Wild boar had begun to farrow, meaning food for those brave enough to go after it. He changed direction quickly inhaling the scent of blood and afterbirth.