Hush Meadow had lived up to its name as Wraith traveled through it. Not even the odd ptarmigan could be flushed from the frozen landscape which was a disappointment as the bird had become the dark male's favorite prey to hunt. Frustrated that his attempts to hunt and entertain himself had gone in vain, the brute naturally angled north through a thin stand of trees towards the frozen marshlands where he may perhaps have more luck. He'd seen the occasional goose flying overhead when resting the his pack mates heading that way.
The very moment he stepped from the trees, an eerie chill settled across the mantle of his back, causing his hackles to raise. The whistling of wind through the trees now behind him did little to calm the sudden anxiety nipping at his heels and Wraith wondered exactly when it was that he began to frighten so easily. He never used to be afraid of something as simple as the wind and cold air.
Honestly, he didn't have to wonder. He knew when it was; the day he'd made a terrible mistake. The wolf growled, shaking off any memories before they had a chance to repeat in his head again and again. Since arriving at Willow Ridge, he'd kept distracted enough to avoid the majority of those lingering thoughts of fault and blame.
Annoyed with himself, he tromped deeper into the marsh, on a mission now to find himself a duck of some sort whose neck he could chew on. The wind buffeted stronger against him, sweeping the dusting of snow off the thick layer of ice - now well formed - beneath his paws. Wraith jolted, amber eyes caught on the miserable face of an open-mouthed fox who had likely drowned beneath the ice. While he had no love for the vermin, finding their slinking about the den irritating, he could certainly feel sympathy for the poor animal. Such a death would have probably felt like years. It was an agony he never hoped to experience and had him treading more lightly across the ice, fearing for his own hide.
As he edged back towards the marsh's tattered bank, Wraith found several other corpses that had suffered similar fates as the fox, though they consisted mostly of small mammals. What a cruel place these southlands could be. Back where he was from, death usually came quickly in the form of a long fall off a steep cliff.