Blacktail Deer Plateau turn off your television

crossing the plains was a terrible idea.
first there had been the fact that it was open and fully exposed—barring a few minor copses here and there—and the weather was as unforgiving as it ever was.
second had been the fact that he had to cross the river, which ended up being more of a feat than it should have been. but the waters had betrayed their depths and the flow of the current too swift to support a lot of ice for his lightweight ass to cross.
third had been more open and exposed ground to cover. he had slept in a snowbank, nose tucked into his tail trying to retain some sense of warmth that was there but didn't feel like it. the nights were too long, the days too short, and lakhos once more felt his energy starting to wane heavily.
so finding the plateau and scaling part of it had really been another saving grace. he may not have had fortune in finding large pockets of solitude or decent amounts of food, but he had at least been able to find shelter when he needed it the most.
and with the wind beginning to howl down yet again, he found that he wanted it more than ever. the towering pockets of dark wood and silvery birch kept him clear of the worst of the weather, and the plateau itself held many more finds that he had never expected to come across.
one such find was a den, and after a quick check to make sure that it was sturdy and not occupied by something else, the coywolf had taken up temporary respite at the mouth of it. he didn't dare try and tuck himself too deeply into the old densite by any means—there wasn't much point to it if he got snowed in and had to tiredly claw his way out. which he would do, if he had to, but lakhos prioritized the notion of safety by being able to see out of the den and keep it clear of piling snow.
sunset approached once again, and with a yawn, the scraggly little coywolf dared to rest his eyes.

@Speedy

It was painful being here. It brought up memories of Emrik and a time when things were the closest to perfect she would ever get. She remembered that warm summer day like it was yesterday—the smell of the dark green forest and the way the sun had warmed her coat. Most of all, she remembered searching for herbs and rattling on about them to her mate as he patiently listened. He never really cared that much about the plants; he tried to hide it but never could from her, although she never let on that she knew. He seemed to enjoy it regardless, and it had become something they did whenever they wanted time, just the two of them—the memory had tears burning her eyes, and she shook her head to dash them away. She couldn't get lost in her grief here. She would never find him if she did.

She moved quickly through the forest, at least thankful that she had some reprieve from the bitter, miserable wind. Her nose took in the scents as she made her way through the trees, though she didnt pick up the trail of the stranger. Maybe she had been too focused on finding only one particular scent. She didn't detect him until she was almost right on top of him. She stopped and jumped back, startled by his sudden, to her, appearance. Shit, she released without thinking. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there, she told him breathlessly.

he drifted in and out of reality in waves. calm, gentle waves. but it was really a battle to try and stay alert when he was lying prone, his head on his legs almost as though he didn't have a care in the world.
though he wasn't entirely out of the wind, at least right there in that dip in the earth he had some sense of safety. but it was very easy to get complacent—perhaps a bit too complacent—and in his drifting, he did just that. the bite of the cold began to matter less, the fact that he was so very rough around the edges mattered even less, and being entirely unbothered was perhaps the greatest gift of all.
and then she appeared, a swear right off her dark lips.
his eyes snapped open in an instant.
his fangs beared themselves.
what is it with you folks?? the words hissed right out of his mouth as his ears pinned back against his furry little skull. i was sleepin' here! was, he was. he should not have been and now he was caught literally between a rock and a hard place, namely her teeth if she sought to turn them on him.

He was upset, understandably, yet his irritation struck an already raw nerve. Of course she would run into some random stranger out here, and of course she would almost run over him. 

I said I was sorry, she told him grumpily, her gaze taking in his form just then. She immediately felt bad. He looked like he had been alone for a while—certainly in need of a meal and a good night's sleep.

She sighed. You really shouldn't be sleeping out here on your own, she told him, this time with soft concern in her voice.

right, she was sorry. like he hadn't heard that before. except, he really hadn't. apologies didn't usually come to him but then again he didn't really do a whole lot to earn them either. if there was ever a skill that he possessed and had mastered, it was the art of aggravating and wounding with a barbed tongue, and then twisting his little fangs into it to make it bleed.
and even if he shouldn't have been sleeping out there in the open—the very thing made him scoff at her statement—there was little he could do about it. or wanted to do about it, really. it wasn't like he was swimming in a plethora of great options and finding this place had been sheer luck. or so he felt.
why? he fired back just as icy as the wind. because i might get stepped on? or eaten? or worse? was there a worse option? oh wait, death. the inevitable. his head shook and he rose, shaking off the snow that clung to him. this spot was ruined, just like his mood.
listen, if you're here to give me some advice about how winter is harsh and everyone is out to get me because of what i am, i've heard it all before. i'll survive, until he didn't and this he knew all too well. if his luck kept up, he was going to be scraggily and scrawny enough to pass through the eye of a needle by the time the snow melted. if it melted.