Clouds began to slowly black out the gentle touches of the moon light. A mist steadily began to take the evergreen forest, settling in like a blanket that masked the sent of any creature. Fur raised on the crown of the best, shivering at the sudden disadvantage of this night. Huffing icy breaths, shooting his head up. Straining his ears, the left stung from an old wound that reopened at the harsh tug, the ears fliched and wacked against the deep blue horns on his head. The sounds of owls and scattering mice could be heard west, the deep hoot somewhat comforting for such a damp night.
Huffing, opening his nostrils only brought in the fog that hid the sent of even the rats that emerged from their borrows. A low growl rumbled deep within his throat. Rattles came from the bottom of his throat, forming vibrations that turned to a pur. Comfort came from feeling his throat, if needed he had enough strength to freeze even the eldest of howlers jaws shut.
One last huff the best brought himself to his paws, clawing at the ground when the wave of uncomfortable hunger grumbled in his stomach. A whimper came soon after, he so badly wanted to hunt, catch another deer but a distant howl prevented him from doing so. Even if the fog prevented him from smelling a danger approaching, the pack would smell blood even ontop of the mountains, an hours flight away. His only hope of food is fish, a slippery pray that he's tried and failed over and over to catch. The best embarrassment of being unable to feed himself boiled in his very blood, though a respect bloomed from it.
A creature so small and weak was able to effortlessly hunt such prey, not only that but willingly shared some with him. Trotting through the forest, the snow crunching under his paws, his sharp claws careful to not stub on any tree roots of bushes. He could only rely on his hearing to know if the pack is anywhere near by. Echod howls travelled down the forest, sounding to be both north and east but at the same time south. Either way, he knew that west was safe, for now at least.
Quietly trotting west caused its own issues, the denser forest had caused him to run into a tree or have his tail tangled in a bush with every other step. A deep growl of frustration rumbled on the forests floors, how dare these plants tug on his fur again! Using his dagger like claws, he was able to carve himself a path even if it caused far too many branches to get snagged into his back, down his tail. Once free the howler crouched, whipping his tail over so he could groom his fur and remove the blasting twigs and bushes. With each lick he had sput out far too many twigs and dirt, grunting as he coughed and choked out the larger ones.
What a pain, the thicker forest wasn't an ideal home. He was made for wider spaces and ice sheets, damm it! Another growl rumbled in his throat, pouting as he continued to travel west, hearing the distant howls become quieter and less threatening. He let out a long breath, mimicking a sigh as he slowed his pace and relaxed his shoulders that was hunched. Huffing, trying sniff out some pray, is was becoming unbearable to limit hunts, the pain in his stomach worsened and a whine came from him as the only sent he could get passed the fog was some distant bison.
That herd was too far out from what the howler could smell, heading past some valley that he had rarely visited, even when he was with the pack. It looked pointless, too narrow, no room to take off, far too many hiding spaces for any enemies. Though the more the howler huffed, he had to open his mouth, taking in slow and deep breaths as he tried to narrow down the sents over the water vapour blanket. It took two or three breaths but sure enough, the howler let out a pur, it was him! But what was his ally doing out this late? Was he nocturnal? Prefer to hunt at night? No he had seen his ally with an elk in a morning. Wait does that mean he hunts at night then brings in his kill in morning? Then the food wouldn't be fresh, what was his ally doing here?
Curious thoughts raced through the howlers mind, deciding to chace these curiosities he set his path north. It may be a bit close to the pack but that's all the more reason to go, if his ally is in danger, he had to save him! He had to, he's the only reason how the howler had gotten some food! With a huff the howler buried his nose into the snow, wiggling into the thick layers and used his flexible tail to slither through, as if he was swimming through the snow. It was a little slower but a much safer way to travel, besides, if he encountered a mouse, a small snack wouldn't hurt.
He continued to slither through, using his tail to perpell his way forward and using his claws to steer. The two smaller horns on his chin allowed the howler to feel the soft paws of a fox just to his left and further into the forest, he was still heading north. The horns picked up further vibrations of an owl landing and scooping up a mouse that had failed to dig itself into the snow. The howler continued to move forward until he ran out of snow, popping his nose out and sniffing at a steep drop, looking out at a river that seemed to have the ice smashed in. Perhaps the bison herd?
The howler sniffed once more, far less fog here, he smelled every mouse both under and above ground, the softer sent just behind him. Taking another breath and close his eyes he could smell the stale sents of the bison, a dog and blood. Looking around the howler saw barly any signs of a hunt here, must have been a few days ago. One more breath and the howler could smell a fresher sent of his ally, the sent sticking by some cluster where plants were pulled out. The howler had his head tilted and his eyes narrowed in curiosity, he didn't know his ally also ate plants.
Huffing he followed the sent trail, trotting his way up the river and thankfully away from where the faint sents of the pack. At least now the howler knew his ally was safe. Continuing the trail, he huffed at the ground and continues to trot onwards, he nose so focused on the ground that he he jumped at the sound of wood creaking under his paws. The howler growled and looked at a strange wooden structure that went over the river, he growled at it then leaped over. Last thing he needed was the rotten wood to crumble under him and send him into the icy river.
The howler huffed then gently tapped his snout to the melting ground, starting the trial once more, heading into the valley. Taking in a breath he holted. He hadn't stepped foot in yet but he could already smell something, something that smelled of ash but yet more powdery. The beast opened his mouth to taste the smell, grunting with a whimper and stumbling back as the vial sent of ash and something so unnatural had hit the roof of his mouth. He raced his mind, trying to see if he knew this sent but after thinking over he realised that he didn't. It was so unnatural and nothing like the neat little campfires that the little creatures made. It was wrong.
A jolt of panic hit his heart when he realised his ally was walking right into it, can he not smell it!? It's so vial and heavy on the lungs, how can he not smell it!? The howler leaped and thought through the vial gas as he galloped towards his ally. That's when more sents hit him, those creatures were infesting the valley, all hidden except his ally and one other, a friend? The howler instinctively let out a warning howl. His deep rumbled echoed off of the valley wall, his howl multiplying and it sounded like a pack had just ran into the gassy valley. His ally so close to the exit but that's where the burnt ashy smell was!