Porcupine Ridge precious and fragile things

He was going to stick out like a sore thumb if it didn't start snowing soon. His form was built for subzero conditions, where the landscape was one giant stretch of white and ice that burned the eye. But for now, in his new home, Dovev was confronted with the dull glow of autumn. But the skies had been hinting at snow- and now it came. Fuzzy white flakes upon the bridge of his brow, down his muzzle, across his pelt, and onto his flakes. The fluffy cohesions didn't melt on his plush ivory coat, as the hairs were insulated in such a way. The ground had yet to take on the same consistency. The earth was still a mix of yellow grass, dirt, and strewn branches that were shiny wet with melted snowflakes. The aroma produced was that of a wet animal.
Tracks of animals criss-crossed the earth, from four to two toed, toes and hooves that sunk into the muddy ground. Dovev's large step covered them as he sauntered along at a slow pace, the hairs around his visage blown back from the frequent gusts. The breeze grew colder and harder, and Dovev grew more comfortable with the weather. The trees had long since broke and the wolf was perambulating across open land that sloped upward towards an unshakeable face of rock. The ridge curved north to south, a gray buffer for the higher mountains beyond. As he drew closer, the wet rock cliff had no easy footholds at its' base. It would be nearly impossible for any creature to scale it. However, it wasn't totally out of the realm of his expertise.
Dovev's white bodice snaked along the start of the ridge, wandering the dead-grass hills just at it's feet. Boulders jutted out at odd angles from the ridge, and Dovev was able to clamber up onto several ledges. Although the ridge still loomed to his right, the boulders allowed a vantage point across the flat slopes of land. White flakes obscured his gray eyes as the sky boiled ominously above him. But it was a familiar feeling of comfort on his thick arctic coat.