Sheepeater Cliff Don't shoot love, baby

For all intents and purposes, Ptarmigan was a general wolf. She had average hearing and average smelling by wolf standards, she was fit and capable and could run long distances. She wasn't the best team player, having been cut from selfish cloth in the form of her mother and even her grandmother, but that was a minor flaw. It could be rectified. Disabilities and injuries could not be rectified, and it was upon this logic that the Endore pitched the idea of climbing further upward, and found herself lacking reasons to do so. The mountain was undeniably dangerous, the cliffs undeniably steep, and it was undeniably stupid to risk injury.

Having decided against this particular venture, the Alpha began to turn around when the sound of crunching autumn grass made her pause. She stood perpendicular to the approaching bitch, who earned a slow and suspicious side glance from the dark Endore. For a moment, she was frozen in that stance, watching the other cautiously despite the greeting, with her ears the only animated thing on her.

Eventually, she did relax somewhat, and turned to face the female properly. She was ivory throughout, without any interesting markings that the Endore could see, with clear blue eyes that summoned her attention. Ptarmigan, ever the defensive and uncertain type, stood stiffly in place and did not extend a greeting in kind, but rather, began with, “you need something?”