Shadow Mountain Vhenan Aravel

Slumped against the frozen earth like some abandoned carcass, Varian groaned into his paws a pointed, unenthused sound. His belly was far from full, reminding him often with low angered grumbles, but the very thought of standing from his warmed spot made his appetite vanish entirely. It never seemed to matter how many squirrels he devoured, it'd never be the same as all the large game he enjoyed back home.

Another huff escaped his muzzle at the strain of movement, tucking his chilled nose beneath a bushy tail as he curled into himself. His eyes fluttered shut, lips pulled into a yawn, awaiting his sleep eagerly — when the crash of stones colliding against his rocky perch snapped him back, head instantly up and on a swivel.

His eyes skimmed the cliffs above him, narrowing at the shadows between sparse shrubs and trees. Varian almost thought himself mad, gone out of his mind from some sort of deficiency in his diet, until the slender form of an oddly remarkable wolf popped into his peripheral. He watched for a moment, taking in its graceful strides in slight awe, then shook his head free from the spectacle. Hey! His voice cracked slightly in its effort, leaving him to clear his throat in momentary embarrassment. Satisfied, he tried again, louder and more hostile than before. What the hell are you doing?