Shadow Mountain never pawned my watch and chain

@Rathbone possibly, paging @Garait for visibility. AW otherwise

the snow that fell the last few days had completely altered the landscape. the forests and fen were unrecognizable with their cast of alabaster -- trails, scents, and footpaths were gone -- simply swallowed by feet of driven snow.

the wind picked up as venextos crossed a shallow ridge and he turned his back to it as it rifled along his spine and raked down his thin legs. it was cold and his breath condensated by his muzzle and flecks of crystalline ice weighed his chin and whiskers. he blinked as the wind howled past him and made to scale down the snowpack, his legs working the slope carefully as he descended from the high steppes into the calmer, quieter lowlands that marked the end of shadow mountain's realm.

 

new characters r hard

the snow had begun falling one day, and it seemed it would continue on forever.

rathbone traveled with his chin tucked to his chest, head tilted downwards and eyes slit near-closed against the onslaught of white that fell ceaselessly.  he forged his way towards comfort — the foothills of a broad and shadowed mountain in the near distance.  perhaps, he thinks, it will offer him some kind of shelter from the snow that piled dangerously.

the nan'uk was not unused to snow; he had been driven south from the reaches of the far north, starvation taking hold of the packs that held on due to bullheaded pride.  they could not relocate, it was all they had ever known.

but malnourishment did not suit him well.  he had bulked back up during his travels fairly well, and although he deeply missed his homelands he did not regret leaving them behind.  he was content to take it one day at a time, and concentrate on the metronomic sound of the heavy crunch of packed snow beneath his paws.

movement caught his eye.  a wolf made his way down the slopes of the mountain, unshielded against the blasts of wind that cut their way across the snow.  the environment was too loud, letting out a call or chuff would be without cause, so instead he veered his course and headed towards the stranger.