Silvertip Mountain by cloud and mist abated

The summoning of her in particular was something she had not yet particular. The Alpha. Not Tonravik, but rank. And so she presumed she was unknown, and that this wolf was not of Tartok. Her approach would not have been different regardless, but it was good to know. The alpha was better at piecing things together than her mother was, more critical and analytical. But she was not terribly bright herself, all things considered, despite being educated elsewhere young.

She descended Silvertip and responded with a low howl of her own to alert the other of her approach. The cool weather did not hinder her, unable to feel it through thickening furs. Dark brown eyes sought the source of the call and they were quick to land upon the figure of Leto. While the other was slim, she noted already that they boasted muscle on their form. It was easy to determine whether or not these muscles were gained by climbing versus running; the slender figure alerted Tonravik that the other was likely swift. Tonravik was thick with muscle earned from the climbing of mountains, and even her running throughout the territory could not slim down her broad, bear-like build. She was built for fighting, and enduring heavy and hard hits.

All this could only be noted as Tonravik pushed through the mist that broke around her, dragging sensuously around the being that defied the very meaning of the word. The other was a safe distance away from home, but Tonravik's stance was still proud and dominant; these lands were her own, and in time, she would take more. She waited for the other to speak, to give her the reason behind her summon.