It was important to keep moving, to keep busy. With the snow had come a sort of quiet peace, but a peace which sat I'll with the beast. Swift River was so calm, so steady as compared to every pack and group he had ever been a part of. In a way, it was welcome, for he was ageing, and a slow, easy retirement could have been a welcome thing. But Marsh was not a slow, easy creature. There had been instances of trouble, moments when he was required. In the same old ways he had been used to, but they were few and far between. He was guard dog and protector, now, until the day came when his rank was stripped by death, battle or disgrace. Even then, he would serve Corinna and Indru, and their offspring, to the last.

Scarred legs took the scarred beast forward, head low and ears pointed, always alert. He had crossed the pack's borders in order to search beyond the well-hunted lands for something else. Rodents and the like made up much of his diet now,and his attention was focused intently on ground-level for any sign of such a meal.

The sound of nearby footsteps made him pause. Somewhere, a wolf snorted, and Marsh's instincts were twofold - though defensiveness came out top, for they were not wholly far from Swift River. That besides, he was a coil slowly and steadily tightened, the tension building through disuse. A low growl rumbled in his chest, but it quickly died, and he chose instead to press towards the sound, jaws open, ready to give a warning bark if necessary. As yet, his stance was neutral bordering on wary, aggressive, the dominance in his body reduced to match the fact that he had no real authority out here, beyond the pack. Tail a horizontal banner behind him, he sought the strange wolf.