Whitebark Stream you know what they do to guys like us in prison?

this was beyond ridiculous. it was snowing again and showed no signs of stopping, despite the fact that winter had gone on seemingly forever. surya missed the sun—his namesake—the bright spring days and fresh green grass. but the sun was hiding, the bright spring days were nowhere in sight, and the fresh green grass was presumably buried underneath the new blanket of white.

surlier than ever before, the yearling stumbled upon the borders by accident, not realizing within the whirlwind that he had been wandering close to the pack's claim. it smelled like that man here. . .the one chasing rabbits in the field.

what was his name. . .?

he remembered his question to evien: do you not have a pack to shelter with? well, surya sure didn't, and in the wake of this endless winter, he was beginning to hate being alone. he shuffled along the territory line for a little while, indecisive. staring forward into the swirling flakes, his face set in a scowl. his need for independence was warring with a childlike desire to belong.

and when his nose and pads began to freeze over, he came to a determined halt. howled into the gale, seeking attention. he may not have much to give a group of wolves, but he could always learn—and they certainly would have a lot to give him.