Redhawk Caldera Say geronimo!

Getting clobbered by snow was no more fun the second time around. Besides, this was much more snow and it was moving. Peregrine tried to plant his feet and thrust to the surface, yet it turned out he'd been knocked sideways in the wave and he was aiming in the entirely wrong direction. It was disorienting and scary, honestly, though a few desperate kicks helped point him the right way when one of his flailing forepaws punched through to the exterior.

Breathing heavily, he lugged himself out of a wolf-shaped hole in the drifted snow and blinked, peering around for Elwood. "El? Hey, El! Can you hear me?" Could a wolf literally suffocate in the snow? Peregrine didn't want to find out. He jumped to his feet and began sniffing. Maybe he could sniff out his companion, then dig him out. "El, where are ya, man?" Their (future, in Elwood's case) wives were going to kill him if Peregrine had accidentally lost/killed the Beta male.