A fierce thunderstorm was upon him, and his pelt was flattened against his skin, having gotten drenched some time ago, and staying that way. Having been on his own for so long, storms didn't frighten him anymore. Considering Skittles tended to be afraid of everything, his calmness was perhaps a little baffling. But then again, lack of food could work a calm on anyone.
Skittles had thought he'd heard distant rumors of his mother, Snow, walking her last steps. His mother was a white wolf, and he'd always had intentions of one day seeing her again. But like everything else in his life, he'd never gotten around to it. As he wound his way through thick tree trunks, headed nowhere in particular, he thought he saw movement ahead. He steadied himself, comically poising one ear and one paw, and stared into the darkness. It was indeed a creature. Hoping for it to be something edible, he began to slink forwards towards it.
When he came near, he could see that it was no edible thing, but a four-footed creature with a long tail, two ears, and a snout. He
shilly-shallied, pausing again, completely unsure what to do, but at last decided that because the creature looked like him, it must be related to him, and because it had a white coat, it must have been his mother.
He tried to stride forwards to the creature and attempted to "attach" himself to her, hoping to keep his shoulder beside her shoulder, and his hip to her hip, as if glued there. He remembered he had always tried to stay close to his mother as a wee pup, and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time. He panted a little in the effort, his muzzle a smile of tiredness.