Silvertip Mountain the galaxy is just a graveyard full of stars

though she hadn't meant to come quite this far from her chosen pike in the hinterlands, the deviljho managed to find another potential throne that was mostly to her liking. another mountain that was unoccupied, and well-suited to her avaricious tastes, despite -- or maybe because of -- the more precarious creases that lie jaggedly across its slush-laden face.

she was careful as she went, but not terribly so; choosing to bound across small chasms where a less sure-footed wolf would have found a way around, and sliding when the slope of the terrain made a steep enough shortcut for her way down. the she-wolf was making fast work of her mountain descent when she noticed an unnatural shape against one of the serrated outcroppings ahead, and she angled herself towards it out of sheer curiosity.

her pace slowed when she realized it was an oil-stain of a wolf -- a male of no discernible packscent, which made him fair game as far as she was concerned. "hail, stranger," she called out from an old footpath several deer-leaps to his left. "these your stomping grounds?"