cavern

Lotan, too, was scaling the mountain, though the higher he climbed the more he started to doubt his decision. The rain made the pathways slick, and more than once he nearly lost his footing. He smiled wryly, thinking of how ironic it would be if he plunged to his death only weeks after joining this path; but the thought only served to give him more determination and so he took care to move slowly and purposefully.

For a long while, he was alone; he came across no other signs of his packmates. Then, as he reached a ridge that seemed to level out somewhat, the scent of a wolf tickled his nostrils. He wasn't positive, but he thought that the smell belonged to one of the females that had been present for the pack hunt; there had been two white she-wolves there, and he didn't know either of their names, so he wasn't sure who he was about to stumble upon. But he tracked her anyway, and soon found himself peering into her little enclosure.

He smiled and gave a wag of his damp tail. "Mind if I come in?" he asked, wondering if she was just getting out of the rain or if she had other intentions with this den-like hollow.