Backdated to April 14th, the morning after this thread.
Photo of Setting (cliffs/river on left-side)
The silver fiend ran through the forest as if hell itself was on his heels, his paws beating a ceaseless rhythm against the snowy ground. He had not fled into his band's usual haunting grounds of the Sierra Hills, but instead escaped into the shelter of the forest that flanked it. The snow was shallower here and easier to move over, marginally protected by the leafless trees that arched overhead.
The villain had no destination in mind, only the goal of putting as much distance between himself and the Oak Tree wolves as he could. Him and Skadi had run all through the night, stopping for neither rest or sustenance. It was wearing on him, fatigue plaguing his typically confident stance. Garmr's parched tongue draped limply from his dry black lips while a viscous froth settled at the corners of his mouth. Something, no, someone kept whispering within the back of his mind to him to keep moving. The filthy wolves that lived here put too much stock in their pack's ties, and would be unlikely to spare him if they ever caught up with him. A needlessly vengeful lot, didn't they know he had done them a favor by ridding the earth of one more sullied beast?
The sun was beginning to claw its way up the eastern horizon when Garmr noticed the sound of rushing, rumbling water, singing to him an irresistible siren song. His tenacious willpower faltered, hesitancy entering his persistent gait. His long limbs staggered to a stop, momentum now lost as he cast his head backwards, staring at the red tinged forest and peering through the trees and ferns for any sign of life. Those poorly-bred mutts were slow, and he figured he had earned himself some rest.
His pale gaze swung towards Skadi, a cocky smirk on his angled features. "We have plenty of time, there's no way those indolent beasts are anywhere close. We can rest." He told her breathlessly, before stumbling towards the sound of fresh, cold, water. The trees thinned as he picked his way over rocky terrain towards the river, which roiled over jagged, sienna-stoned rapids before cascading over a rugged cliffside. All decorum was lost as he dipped his muzzle into the shallows, thirstily gulping down mouthfuls.