Rising Sun Valley thin thread

The wind that scoured the stone basin and shrieked through the mountain's backbone was enough to convince Caiaphas not to brave the flatlands, so intense was its frigid squall. Behind a broken slab of ice floe Caiaphas trembled, her fur rimpled by the zephyr's passing.

She had spent her time hounding the Glacier, yet never once had she been brave enough to trespass. Little had been learned by their surveillance, save for the Glacier wolves were a dull breed -- and evidently, of the tedious variety. She was about to abandon her post for the vigil offered by a slab above it when she saw ad scented the presence of another. The creature was a white wolf she neither recognized by scent nor sight -- with a hiss she retracted as the male watched the elk in the valley below. She had no interest in conversing with the male -- nor any interest in explaining why she, a sea-wolf, was this far inland.