Whitefish River I'm So Fancy

Cold wasn't his friend. In fact he immensely disliked it, if it was up to him he'd spend all his time somewhere warm, hot even. For now he trotted amongst a thick stand of trees having left the highlands to seek the more comfortable climates he preferred, even if it was only because the wind was deflected by the now surrounding forest.

The painted male walked amongst the wood, his nose pointed to the ground inspecting it as he ventured this unknown world, every now and then he'd catch a faint smell of some meager prey animal, reminding him that the cold wasn't the only thing he disliked. Winter took a particular toll on him, the cold mixed with the almost constant hunger was enough to make him particularly unhappy with the season. At least it's almost over this stray thought brought a slight smile to his face.

He was lost in his thoughts, switching from inward complaining about the cold and hunger, to the curiosity that made him walk, wondering at the history, the beginning of this place. Lost in his own thoughts he found himself suddenly walking toward another wolf.

It looked to be a tiny thing, smaller than his own limited stature, he wasn't certain if she'd seen him or not as she seemed to travel much the same way he did; Lost in thought. He kept moving toward her, a soft chuff was offered in greeting, or at least to call attention to the fact he was nearby.