Squeak and Creak

White.

She couldn't see anything in the blizzard. Where was the trail she had been following? She shivered, brown fur coated with white frost. Traveling along the northern coastline had been a mistake. Now, she was lost, freezing, and beginning to worry.

For a brief few seconds, the snowdrifts parted, revealing a hulking, decrepit shape in the distance. Shelter. She raced forward, slowing as the structure loomed over her. It was made of metal, but it was like nothing she had seen before. The ship creaked and moaned in the wind, making her doubt if it would be any shelter at all. Still, if she didn't get out of the cold, she could freeze to death. Arayne was a temperate-climate wolf. Her fur wasn't think enough to live in this kind of region 24-7. With sigh, she began examining the wreckage. A gash in the hull drew her attention, and she stumbled inside, grateful to be out of the wind. As her eyes adjusted, she looked around at the area she had found. It was a wide space, with wreckage heaped in one corner. There was little light, but she would manage.

She sniffed the air, but couldn't detect any scents of inhabitation. Maybe it was the storm outside. With a sigh, she found a comfortable place to sleep, spun a few times, and flopped down, curling up and drawing her tail over her nose. Her tired eyes watched the snowstorm for a few more minutes, then slowly slid shut. She'd just have to wait the storm out.