Redhawk Caldera Snow Squalls

The pack's Alpha male woke and rose from his cozy bed, stepping out of doors to take a leak. He hiked his leg against the nearest tree, half-lidded eyes staring off into the distance. He only meant to empty his bladder, then return to Fox's side. He wasn't even really awake, though he blinked himself into a higher level of awareness when he thought he saw one of his wolves struggling against a tree further down the caldera's steep, snowy slope.

Momentarily pulling against the strong magnetic field between himself and Fox, Peregrine began picking his way downhill to help... whoever it was. He couldn't see from here and his sleepy brain still wasn't working at capacity. He began to stumble, so he sat down hard and instead began to slide, à la this image:



He slid to a stop a few feet from his pack's Kappa. Tempest, he thought dully. She looked a lot like nearly every other wolf in his ranks. Peregrine hadn't even realized how many gray wolves lived at the caldera until this very moment. He chuckled quietly to himself, then cleared his throat and remembered himself.

"Tempest? That's... a very big stick you've got there."