Little Goat Mountain a too-small mountain

as one wolf descended the stout peak, another ascended. this one a towering warwolf, smokedark with a menacing stride. few knew this wolf, or braved his presence at all, but those that did had come to respect him in one way or another - whether or not they would dare to admit it to themselves. stigmata may not have been appetizing to every party he come across, but he could never go unacknowledged - not by anything that valued its life.

he paused as he noticed the earthgold wolf, mistaking the coat at first as belonging to his compatriot finch. but everything else about the stranger was wholly alien to stigmata, so he let out a low chuff in greeting, wondering about the kind of wolf he had come across that grey-cold day.