Whitebark Stream look, this comes as no surprise.

vaguey about this

The season had grown colder, bleaker. While Yura was no stranger to snow, she had yet to experience her first winter and was almost oblivious to the changes that came with it. Almost.

It was the scent that clung to many here that bothered her most. It was sweet and musky and unmistakeably repulsive. At first the stargirl had guessed it arose from the caribou but, as the set of very wolf-like pawprints she followed revealed, Yuralria had an inkling that her theory was flawed. 

Her lip curled in thought, gaze seeking the owner of the trail when her eyes landed on a ruddy wolf in the distance. Swiftly, she approached the stranger only to feel her stomach sink as the pawprints carried on into the snow. This wolf carried no trace of it, but Yuralria could not shake the question from her head. "Are they sick?"