The Bracken Woods frozen yoghurt

Smoky breath billowed around the grayscale mass of fur as his strong paws carried him through the twisted undergrowth. Spring had not yet fully sprung but already the forest had a promising aura to its expanse. His maw parted, letting his tongue loll out to the side as he breathed in the musty canine scent of those who had ran these trails before him and underneath it all, the tempting odour of rabbits. No wonder these tracks seemed infested with wolf scents; the woodland was practically teeming with delicious morsels just waiting to be snapped up. He'd certainly log this particular site as a possible hunting spot in case he was in need of an easy meal.

With that thought still on his mind, the grey male pressed on through the last of the still dormant shrubs to emerge among the tree line, his warm ochre optics sparkling with interest as he surveyed the magnificent domain before him. An emerald valley stretched wide beneath a thin sprinkling of snow, the weak sun just stroking the buds of the wild flowers that were just beginning to pepper the landscape. And in the distance, just kissing the horizon, the brute could just about make out the icy blue tinge of an ice river enclosed in a grey smudge, presumably rocky outcrops and mountains. He breathed a deep sigh, enjoying the cool air and the maze of trails still waiting to be discovered. "This certainly is far different from the forest gloom," he voiced, keeping his tone low and to himself. Perhapse a wolf native to this land would sense his presence or simply stop by to greet him, he didn't know, just so long as he didn't aggravate any packs that had staked their claim nearby.