It was quiet here, the intermittent creaking of the ice over-top the pond the only sound to disrupt the soft hush of snowfall. In shades of white and grey, Mako blended into the terrain as little more than scenery himself. His breaths were slow and measured, a quiet mantra running through his head. Each turbulent through that bubbled up -- he sighed deeply, trying to ignore the destruction of the bend that haunted him -- was pushed back with a deep breath. A great aunt had taught him this... sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. But it was worth a try, wasn't it?
His amber gaze faltered from the surface of the pond, brows furrowed. Was his great aunt doing okay? His mother? His sister? He took another deep breath, pushing the worry downwards. It was fine. They were fine. Snow, ice, himself sitting here were the only things that existed in this moment.
As finely tuned as his senses were, a snap of a twig caught his immediate attention. The large wolf jolted, neck cricking a near one-eighty to stare with wide eyes over his shoulder.