Eyes of a Wanderer

Rob traveled slowly around the bends of the river, twisting his head curiously as he reach the plateau. There was only a slight dusting of white covering things, and the canopy of trees on the plateau seemed to protect the place from any of the repulsive stuff; Rob hated the cold, and hated the snow even more. He climbed the crag even more slowly than he had walked, making what he did into a crawl.

He searched the forest for any signs, nothing. But the scent of a female prevailed over the cold that touched his nose. She had marked everywhere, and was obviously very territorial. He wondered if she had a mate.

The honey brown wolf walked through the trees, weaving back and forth, stopping to sniff the air and change directions as needed. He figured he would find this she-wolf soon, for the scent grew stronger as he walked on. The sky peeked through the trees as he stared forward, and he made himself chuckle wondering if the female had launched herself from the cliff. He was pleased, though, as he walked on a saw a large wolf with black fur. She seemed to have no clue he existed, for she murmured in front of a stump with ugly rocks.