Fox's Glade and i'm backsliding

Clay cocked his brow at the other's weird appearance between the winter winds. Never before had he seen a creature quite like this wolf, their fur spread out as if they were an apparition. He shivered at the thought, hoping it was not true. His father always murmured about not trusting such things... But even if the weird boy was such, Clay continued to lead the way for the other with a nod.

He said nothing to the maybe-ghost, just a nod and a tip of his muzzle to follow before he bowed his head against the winds to block it. Blasted snow. Blasted winter. Blasted wind. Clay was sick of such weather and hoped it would clear soon enough for him to venture back out to Valour.

But just as Clay placed a paw down he sunk sharply, a yell escaping his jaws and he fell face-first into a pit and ate snow. Shame flooded him for such a careless action, and as he pulled his head out and stood, he shook the frozen water from his face without so much as giving the stranger a glance. "Don't ask," was all he offered.