The grey skies above seemed to foreshadow some sort of precipitation; higher up on the mountain it had already come in a light dusting of snow, barely enough to colour the ground white, and it would fade away by the time the afternoon warmth came. But it was the first herald of the approaching winter, a season which came with a coldness the young wolf did not much like. Every night the temperature dropped and he was forced to snuggle closer to the other wolves in the communal den, but he did so with some reluctance. He did not particularly want to snuggle up to his mother- both because he still hadn't forgiven her and because he didn't want to be seen as a baby who needed to cuddle with his mother for warmth.

His coat, which had lightened considerably over the past weeks, causing him to look more like his biological mother now than his father, helped him blend in with the rocky environment. He was crouched against the ground in the shadows, trying to ignore the bite of the frost on the ground that chilled his toes. Yes, he'd be very happy when this winter thing had come and passed. His eyes, which had settled as a stormy shade of greyish blue, were locked onto a gopher; small and tan, which was scavenging for food along the mountainside. He could see where its hole was, and waited for it to stray far enough away.

There wasn't enough cover for a proper ambush, so he instead had to rely on his speed. Unfortunately, he had neither the speed nor the agility to catch the gopher, which took off as soon as the four month old pup began to give chase. It was much smaller and handled the scree better than the boy, who gangleed this way and that, trying in vain to make up the distance. He hadn't noticed that the gopher had had a whole system of backup holes and had disappeared down one before he'd had a chance to gain any ground. Frustrated, the young boy stopped at the hole, panting. He took up a growl and began to dig furiously at the gopher's hole even though he knew it was of no use.

"Damn rat!" He cursed, and, out of spite, began to set about kicking rocks and dirt over all the other gopher holes he could find along the side of the mountain. Even though he knew it could dig its way out again, he wanted to give it hell for getting away on him.

Though Crowe suggested that he should learn to use his wit rather than power, Mercy preferred to think that one day he'd be as big as his idol, and would be able to rely on his size and strength. This notion faded, though, when Crowe seemed to emphasize the importance of using one's brain...It made him wonder, then, if someone as big as him preferred to think rather than simply sling his weight around, if it was all that important to be big...Either way, he still wanted to be as big as- if not bigger than- Crowe. Just so that he could look tough.

He was a bit surprised when Crowe invited him to playfight. Immediately, when Crowe bent down into a play-bow, Mercy did as well- simply out of instinct, more than anything. His head tilted to the side when Crowe taunted him. Crowe rose back up and, slightly offended that his sparring partner was using his height against him, Mercy barked- but Crowe bent back down, pleasing the pup. He bared his teeth and gowled, intermitantly barking and faking an attack, pouncing from side to side to see if he could throw Crowe off or confuse him so that he couldn't anticipate an attack. Of course, the boy lacked finesse and it was fairly obvious when he intended to leap at his partner- the butt-wiggle probably gave it away completely. He wanted to grab Crowe's scruff, now that his head was lowered, but made to grab and hold whatever he could!

He'd caught him! After being met face to face with every move he made, Mercy was quite pleased to find that he'd managed to get a good grip on the thick fur along the back of Crowe's neck. He soon found out, though, that what he'd done would have little to no effect. Crowe was too big, and his fur and skin too thick, especially along the back of his neck. He remembered, now, why this was- he too had been given extra fur and skin along the nape of his neck, and his mother used to pick him up by it- and he'd felt no pain. So for such a large male like Crowe to have a pup hanging onto fur and skin which was even thicker and tougher than it had been when he'd been a pup, this was hardly painful at all. Mercy was lifted right up off the ground when Crowe stood, and even had the strength to rear and buck, trying to throw Mercy off.

The boy did let go- this was a useless tactic. It would get him nowhere with Crowe, who was much larger, tougher. He had to think about his size, in comparison to Crowe's, and how he might use that against the larger male. He remembered, then what Crowe had said to him one day- about being so big that he couldn't run fast...Surely, then, Mercy would be much more nimble on his feet. He began to circle Crowe, occasionally switching directions at the drop of a hat- with the whip-like speed of a falcon and the nimble feet of a fox. Crowe was big, so Mercy couldn't use his weight to bring the male down...But he might be able to use his speed. He began to nip at Crowe's legs as he whipped around him, doing his best to make the large male dance- the fewer feet he had on the ground, the easier it would be to get him off balance.