Silver Creek teenagers scare the living sh*t out of me

He came racing through the trees— a conundrum of fluidity and nervous tension all at once. The wolf  took notice of the sharp scent in the air foretelling water, and thought, 'the snow will turn to rain soon'.

He was not smelling water because of an oncoming storm. There was a creek nearby. It flowed between the trees despite the snow coating the wilderness. The wolf came crashing through the shallows completely by accident. His paws sank in to the half-melted snow between the ferns. As this happened his face contorted in to a look of dissatisfaction; he took the time to lift each paw and give it a shake.

It had been a few weeks since he'd been fortunate enough to find another living soul. The creek was devoid of life at the moment; yet, the wolf had taken notice of scents throughout the woodland. He dipped his head to take a quick drink from the creek's edge, and began to roam again. The haradrim was not going to be cornered here if he could help it.