Ocean's Breath Plateau careful when you come through my way

The warhound had struck out in search of the orange wolf who had ravaged one of their own. His cruel mismatched gaze searched everything that he passed with a savagery that was unbecoming of him. The hunt had not been kind to him. Through the ravaged wood that had formerly been his mother's home, Ford had followed as far as he could have before he had stepped out onto the plateau. There, the wind whisked against his coat and frame, biting with the harshness of winter. The earth felt cold beneath his paws, but it did not deter him from his goal, and it wouldn't until he had accomplished what it was he had set out to do.

Marching forward, the titan prowled with purpose. The thick muscles along his shoulders and back rippled with each step that he took. Though the frigid winds raised bumps along his flesh and bit into him like a wicked snake, he did not stop and he did not think to turn back to the bay.

Out there, he caught sight of a pale shape. For a moment, he thought to turn away from the stranger so that he might continue with his task. Instead, he thought selfishly of his pack and of the wolves who were waiting for further numbers to join them. Ford swung toward the sharp-looking wolf. Once he had closed a good deal of the distance between them, he drew his crown upward and chuffed in greeting, hoping that he might avoid frightening her by drawing so close so quickly. There, he waited to see if she would grant him permission to move closer or if she would turn him away.