Wapun Meadow good, honest work

dolce met cole with a side-ward, knowing glance. tension rolled off the man in waves. nearly palpable. "hard week?" he grumbled with a nod in greeting. "reckon' ya look like y'need to sink your teeth into somethin'." he mused. 

he turned his attention back toward the horizon, nostrils flaring. "ain't much. caught a scent of a mule deer." he prowled forward; they'd be sure to find fresh tracks eventually. if cole chose to join him, he'd offer a silent invitation for him to hunt alongside him. and if not, he'd manage on his own.

following the faint scent, he lumbered through the snow and dead thickets.