Grouse Thicket quercus

Weary of the murk that had clung to everything in the morass, the flighty wolf had vanished from it and ventured back to the thicket. 

There he felt safer than he had in the muck. The foliage would allow him to disappear without a trace if he happened upon any other brutes like the two from Vein's pack. 

Trekking on, Crowfeather caught a glimpse of silver in the brush. It moved, so he ventured a guess that it was a predator. The dark wolf was not certain he could brave another hostile encounter, so he watched.