To what do I owe the pleasure?

Something didn't seem right.

Enrico sniffed warily at the faint breeze as it passed over the ship. The breeze didn't even stir the heavy fog that enveloped everything. It was early morning, and he'd just emerged from his comfortable nest below decks in preparation for a patrol when instinct put him suddenly on edge. Asriel hadn't yet returned from a hunting trip to the west and Enrico couldn't help but wish that he had the cat's claws and teeth to back him up because he knew there was something wrong out there, in the pack's lands, and he'd need to go find out. Alone.

Well, perhaps not alone, but he didn't want to awaken the pack for nothing, just a feeling. So he slipped out without calling for anyone, and set out to discover what was bothering him. Something, some scent on the wind that he couldn't quite recognize but knew instinctively was dangerous. The traces led him away from land, slowly meandering towards the distant place where he knew the ice thinned and water would begin to show through.

It was a pawprint in the slush that began to solidify the alarm. It was no wolf, that was for certain. The massive print was ursine in nature, but not quite the grizzly or black bears he had seen in the past. The edges were blurred and strange, and more alarming was that the print was fresh, no more than a few minutes old. And the size alone told Enrico that the last thing he wanted to do was meet this beast alone, but they couldn't afford to let this particular unwanted houseguest hang around the territory either. Lifting his dark muzzle, he gave a low, cautious howl calling for the pack's tougher elements to gather with him to protect Niente. Though he glanced furtively back toward the ship in the hopes of seeing activity, he kept the vast majority of his attention focused on the direction the print showed the beast moving. With the fog, he wouldn't be able to see if it had turned around to return this way until it was too late.