Morning 20 degrees F.
His ears twitched hearing the pawsteps of another wolf. The crusty snow cracking under each step of the newcomer. Follko wondered who was visiting him today. He sincerely hoped that it was Shadowstorm with some more herbs for him to take. If the swelling in his face went down then perhaps the male might be able to actually eat without whining in pain. That's why the rodents were scattered around his sleeping place as they were. Follko just couldn't eat them the way his injury was.
Tiredness creaped up his neck. Just looking up and using his neck muscles was too much effort now. Lowering his head and lying it on his front paws the dark elder waited for the wolf to come into his sight.
--Edgar Allan Poe