Round Stone Crest Freezing Rain

RE: A rare freezing rain coats Relic Lore in a coat of ice!
Weather: Cloudy, -12C, 11F

The rounded boulder provided welcome relief from the biting winds on the exposed hill top, as Darkmoon sat huddled against its side, shivering. It was cold anyway, but his thin figure provided little extra protection to the cold of winter. He had run to the boulder in hopes of escaping the freezing rain that tore through Relic Lore, and icicles clung to his bedraggled fur. It had turned the mesa into a scene from a horror film, an expanse of ice piled into jagged, terrible forms. Darkmoon looked on forlornly, wondering what was going to come next, hoping for a reprieve in the weather. The winter had been hard on him, but somehow he managed to keep going. The frozen carcass of a hare hung from his jaws, but it would make only a meager meal; it had already been partially scavenged by the time Darkmoon had found it.

Darkmoon had travelled a long way, and for a long time, to reach the northernmost region of Relic Lore. While he had come across signs of other wolves along the way, he had not crossed paths with another wolf. Whether this was due to luck or his avoiding them, he did not know, and the loneliness of it all suited him fine.

Darkmoon stood up and shook the ice from his fur, deciding to investigate the rock for some hollow or overhang he could take further shelter in. He needed somewhere more shielded from the wind to sleep the night, or he knew he would die from exposure. Darkmoon knew his limitations, and had survived by being careful and considered in his decisions. It did not take him long to find the large cave that once housed the hill's pack. He scented the air; it was stale. No one appeared to inhabit the cave. He looked back before entering to make sure no one would follow him in, but all he could see was a white blur of ice and wind.

(This post was last modified: Feb 25, 2017, 06:23 AM by Darkmoon.)

A part of him couldn't help but wonder if, you know, the world was ending. Or maybe, the world was trying to end him. But he was pretty sure those two things were one and the same. All he knew for certain was that the weather sucked. There had been a freak snow storm a week ago that gifted him Vic, and now, it was raining. The rain was somehow so much more worse than a random blizzard and he didn't understand how that worked.

It was just so cold, cold, cold. He tucked his head down, scrunched up his face, and bustled forward. Because while he had managed to find a rock, a rock that he knew housed a cave, he couldn't find the opening fast enough.

He rounded the corner of the rock and just as he made it to the cave's entrance—he went scuttle scuttle thwack. There was no saving the stocky boy as one of his paw's landed square on a patch of ice, the limb shooting out from under him while gravity did the rest. The world blurred and everything lurched while he slipped, hard, landing on his shoulder with a jarring thud. His mind whirred as the mantra of oh man, oh geez, oh man started. But despite his internal panic, he wasted no time in hauling himself back onto all fours. And slipping and stumbling the entire way, he finally made it into the safety the cave's four walls offered.

He didn't get a chance to notice that the old den—the old den was preoccupied. No, he was too focused on making sure he didn't die from slipping on ice to notice the other wolf. Not immediately, at least.

COTTONGRASS

Snow and ice, that was the only thing that could describe the world around the Asurn. Keeping a low profile as she forced her way through the frigid conditions. A snarl of frustration escaped as orange eyes, slitted against the stinging shards of ice falling against her muzzle. The hungry wolf had no intention of dying out here, she had come from a strong bloodline, a bloodline that was proud and flowed with the very essence of survival, and she was strong, strong and stubborn, though which ever played into her trudging through a snow storm, it was hard to tell.

She paused, something briefly silhouetted itself against the wall of white, a faint flicker of a rise perhaps? She didn’t have anything to lose by checking it out, she’d die either way if she stayed out here for much longer. Forcing her way through the deadly conditions, eventually Echo found herself slowly rising in elevation, though it was hard to tell, unaware that she had arrived behind two others, any ability to track or anything to track was obliterated by the howling wind and ever blowing snow falling against the ground, her side pressed against the stone, seeking to put the massive stone between her and the wind. Eventually, though, the stone disappeared, vanishing into an entrance, the ebony female ended up tumbling inside with a surprised snarl.

The scawny wolf quickly recovered from the fall, her orange gaze glowing in the dimly lit den, just unaware of how close her own blood had slept mere feet away this time last year.

As it turned out, Darkmoon was not the only wolf interested in the refuge of the cave. He had barely settled down to rest after quickly scoping out the space, before he heard a dull thud. He was quick to stand up, hackles raised in anticipation. He was sure the cave was unoccupied, whether by wolf, bear or some other animal, so the sound was wholly unexpected, and made Darkmoon nervous. He proceeded towards the entrance of the cave slowly, and picked up on the scent of wolf. This was not welcome news. He paused, unsure if he should continue. He was thin, weak and tired, and in no position to defend this space - and yet, that was precisely the reason why he had to. There was no way he could go back out into the storm. He would either die in here defending himself, or out there in the cold.
    With a newfound resolve, he approached a scene that caused him to stop and stare. The intruder was anything but intimidating; slipping and sliding on the icy floor, the wolf looked comical rather than threatening. Darkmoon relaxed and felt laughter welling up in his chest, but the appearance of a second wolf changed things. Even though she, too, stumbled into the cave in an ungainly fashion, the fact that there were two of them now threatened rather than amused him. Hackles and tail up to look as large as possible, Darkmoon advanced on them in a defensive manner. Go away, his body language said, this place is mine. If they were together, he had no chance of fighting them off - even if they were in it for themselves, his chances were low. All he could hope was that he looked ferocious enough that they would just turn around and walk - or slip - away.

@Cottongrass