Random Event: A mysterious fog rolls over relic lore.
July 23rd; Early Morning, Foggy, 73°F, 22°C
The scent of prey had lingered on the breeze far too long for the lone male to ignore. Hunger gripped at his insides, causing his stomach to groan in protest as he wandered further into unknown territory. Nanuk had made it to the woods, escaping the prickly heat of the lichen-covered lowlands for the cooler temperatures provided by the dense canopy of alpine conifers. The shade had offered the arctic wolf much relief; shielded from harsh sunlight, the terrain was more forgiving on his dry, cracked paws which afforded them the opportunity to heal.
Nanuk spent days tracking down the deer herd; guided by their musky scent on the wind, the male followed them as they abandoned the dense cover of the woodlands for steep mountain slopes. Although they were more exposed, the terrain was more treacherous. Still, the wolf pressed on, guided by their droppings and hoof prints in the dirt and gravel, he was determined to stay on their heels.
He finally caught up to them as they approached a mountain pass. Surrounded by steep cliffs, the ungulates were forced into a bottleneck, slowing them down enough that he could stalk at a leisurely pace behind them. The thick fog that had rolled in earlier that morning now played to his advantage, offering him the opportunity to remain unseen as he circled in closer to observe the queuing herd for signs of weakness.