Razorback Ridge my armor is harder than most

The lanky brown wolf too found himself scaling the ridge, knocking loose rocks here and there and nervously watching them tumble over into the sea of green below. He had more or less found himself here out of unwillingness to leave the mountains, and curiosity pushing him past the point of no return. He preferred being high up in a place he didn't know, having a vantage point to survey the land was remarkably helpful to the directionally savvy wolf. He may be lost now, but he'd been through tricky paths before and had the stubbornness to continue forward regardless. And if not now, he'd have surely been tempted to do so later.

The scents of other wolves were pertinent around him from the ground below, and it made him alert to his surroundings. But the scent of another stood out, growing oddly louder than the rest. Coming to a halt and perking his ears he remained still as a tree, listening and watching around him for a few minutes. Eventually, the sounds of paw falls could be heard on the path in front of him. In the distance, he began to see the silhouette of another. A wolf much larger than him.

Traversing the path alone was one thing, but Henryk hadn't planned to run into anyone else on this road. He remained neutral and still to see what the other wolf would do, composing his outward self so as not to let his hackles betray him and show any sign of ill will. A bad confrontation wouldn't be wise in this situation. Well, in any situation for him.