Black Ice

Caked in snow Brandr headed back into Abaven territory panting.  He shook his coat out roughly dislodging some of the clinging moisture and sighed heavily.  Keeping such a large pack fed in the bleakness of winter was proving a challenge and it was keeping the youth working non-stop.  Some hunts were successful, others, like this one, not so much.  He made note to try later after he rested a bit.  Perhaps if he were lucky he could rally enough of the Abaven wolves to go hunting for bison.

As he peered out over the plains he spied one of the Abaven pups out for a walk.  Brandr watched the youth for a moment, hesitant to say anything.  He still hated starting conversations and had a tendency to keep to himself but he knew that if he was ever going to truly be a part of this pack then he needed to get to know those he shared it with.  "Hello!  Out for a walk?"