frosty the snowman!

Gilgamesh

Winter had come and changed the vast landscape of Boreas. While some areas in the South bore little signs of snow, Veteran's Plateau was given a happy dose of it. Nearly three inches had fallen over the land, covering the ground, while some objects could still be made out. The history in this place was ancient, dating back to times before the wolves. Since little was known of the two-legged walkers, the chunks of shining or rusted metal were a mystery. It was the perfect place to play and investigate what snow was all about.

Gilgamesh hardly stepped foot from the Northern part of Boreas, but today he was bored. Something needed to spice up his day-to-day routine of hunting and the occasional spars. Treading over boundary lines, he paused to take in the expanse that lay before him. Bare of trees and shrubbery that he was used to, his head tilted slightly. As his ears turned about, he sniffed the air with a turned muzzle. Surely there would be other wolves here for him to intimidate or compete in something with.

Stepping cautiously over the snowdrifts, Gil's yellowed gaze searched for a while. Growing bored quickly, he took to rolling balls of snow with his paws. Some were small and compact, easy for his large paws to kick at the metal shields or swipe with his tail at different objects. Other balls rolled into bigger ones, almost reaching to his chest. Patting them with his chin or tail, they grew more compact and strong enough for him to roll on top of each other. Pleased with his work, the large male smiled to himself. It was a kind gesture he didn't often allow others to see.

While the sun continued to rise over the horizon, hidden by oncoming snow clouds, maybe others would join him in his version of fun.

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