Inquisition

Buffeted by the wind and snow the golden wolf climbed the mountain. Green eyes set on a single cave among thousands, a cave that reeked with the scent of blood, fear and fur. A scent she knew well from her old pack. She scaled the side of the mountain and stopped at her destination, alerting all within the stone walls to her presence with a powerful howl. The mountains breed strong wolves, stronger than most, with her training and her muscular bodice she could only do well in a pack such as the one before her. A second howl followed the first calling for someone, anyone, to receive her.