Northstar Vale boogie woogie down with your funky feet

He entered in the green, went through yellow and into red.  @Saena @Warbone

Though Dragon was no stranger to making use of crow's nests to see what he could see, never had his well-travelled paws climbed a mountain. So, when he found a narrow pass between them, he took that route. He reckoned it was bound to lead somewhere, either to one of his 'inland coves' or to the other side at least, and he was right: the pass was no long opening up into a glen.

It was tucked perfectly amid the mountains, surrounded on all sides by their challenging slopes. It was cut midway by a meandering creek and there was at least one lake. Any wind that managed to sail down from the mountain would be met with sturdy trunks of the forest. It was... perfect. About as good a respite from winter as ever there was.

There was just one problem.

Someone else, many someone else's in fact, must have had the same idea. The place was reeking of other wolves, and while Dragon was open to joining others, others may not be open to him. His fur itched with uncertainty; most of the wolves he had met outside the realm he had been raised in were far less savage than the ones was reared among, but still he was cautious as he picked his way.

The scent grew stronger as he moved west. They had been here, but were not here now, as further evidenced by the flesh-bare skeleton of a past kill, or what was left of it. Scavengers had scattered the remains, but a rib bone rising above the snow caught his eye. He scooped it up, pinching it between his teeth and pressing his tongue against it as he continued to roam.

He slowed as he encroached on the strongest scent, that which told him the pack was near. He lowered his head, his tail trailing between his hocks as his eyes darted about and ears twisted this way and that. And still, he held the rib between his fangs.