Since he had been discovered by Rhysis, there was no doubting that the shadow of a man had become a sort of savior to Mapplethorpe. Protected, or at least watched over, by seven other souls, was beneficial. His battles with insomnia were no longer drawn out until an hour before daybreak; his craving for food had seemingly been curbed. With his small hollow at the base of a tree established not far from Naira's den, his paws were itching for purpose. The hunt had provided the newfound pack with several filled caches, and while a few more hiding places for stored foods could be sought out, his mind longed to just stretch his legs.
Mapplethorpe was quick to pick his way through the snow, his nose kept down at first to follow a seemingly established pack highway to find his way to the rocky ledges that led up to the Pass. Tail wagging to and fro, he navigated with calculated, utterly cautious steps, constantly testing his paws against stone and gravel before ultimately moving forward. Going up a narrow pathway and down a small incline readily tested his endurance but to reward his curiosity and need for adventure, he came to plant all four of his paws on a sizable shelf, suitable for two or three large wolves. He smiled to himself as he allowed his eyes to feast upon the sight below. Treetops, towering ancient cedars and firs and pines laden with crisp white snow, stood tall in thick groves, and a blanket of fog stretched out over the land as far as the eye could see.
His body reclined with a hefty thump against the cold stone, a good sign that the grizzled male had started to regain the weight that he had lost during his nomadic travels. Once settled, he stretched his left paw forward and folded the right close to his chest, his head lifting proudly to continue taking in the scenery. The tail at his back swept across the shelf before curling close to his hind leg. Comfortable, he closed his eyes, attempting to soak up what little sun peeked through the cloud cover.