Wild Berry Meadow Phat Bellies

It had been at least a week since Tulimaq had seen anything larger than a hare, and as the season progressed he expected to see less and less of the smaller creatures of the wilderness as they chose to avoid the seasonal shift; himself, on the other hand, was more than capable of surviving within the wasteland of the north and he assumed it would be much more mild here, and thus easier. He was not worried. However, as he crossed along a low hill and picked his way lazily through the frost-bitten shrubs, he caught sight of something. At first he wasn't sure what he was seeing - it was just a subtle motion, the lowering of a wedge-shaped head towards the blunt grass rolling along the hillside. He paused.

Tulimaq watched as one of the deer crept along, either oblivious of the wolf or desperate with the wilting of the grass and the encroaching cold, so they might not have cared. The wolf sniffed the air, dragged his tongue across his nose so that he could gather the scents, and that's when he picked out the aroma of another canine - it was light, airy, not familiar. Tulimaq huffed air from his snout to clear it (and focus his mind), and he turned his attention from the wandering deer and began to scope out the area for wolves.

Chances were good that it was a rogue, but Tulimaq could not be too careful - he was not known for being timid, anyways. If the wolf was lurking near the herd of wandering deer then there was a better chance they could join forces, perhaps get a meal out of any exchange. From his vantage point among the berry bushes, he couldn't make out any obvious shapes --- ah, but there, he could see some white among the maroon of the bushes.

On approach he realized it was a small hump of early snow, having fallen in the hours previous and likely covering one of the bushes; not a wolf, then. Tulimaq turned his attention to his periphery and tried to find the wolf-scent again, but it had moved on already. Curious.