- Afternoon, Heavy snow - 13 °F/-11 °C
His progress was deadly slow, every step strenuous, bordering on painful, to the point that he could only travel for a few hours a day. Then he'd seek out any cover he could to rest, though his sleep was troubled, broken many times by the cold, his hunger, or even just small sounds from other animals roaming about the night. He was painfully aware of how exposed he was, and that anxiety did nothing to help him rest. As he travelled, he tried to hunt as best he could, but there weren't many opportunities, and his tired body and lag of skill made it almost impossible to catch what he did manage to sniff out. Scavenging had been his main source of sustenance for a long time now, it kept him alive, but barely, and there was steep competition around every carcass. A couple of swollen, red stripes from a possessive wolverine stretched across his shoulder, throbbing lightly with every other step. It had hardly been a fair fight, and the emaciated pup had wisely turned tail as soon as it was clear the beast wouldn't budge. Another hungry night.
Finally he'd have to come to terms with the fact that there was no trace of Bennet or Karina on the mountain, and if he wanted to keep searching, he needed to find a more steady source of food. So he headed down, hoping to have more luck hunting small prey in the forests on the pass' slopes. It wasn't an easy descent, the paths steep and narrow, seeming rarely used and mostly by animals that were a lot better at climbing than the grey-wolf pup. When it started snowing about halfway down, he was sure he was done for, the heavy flakes obscuring the already undefined trail to the point that he could hardly tell it apart from the surrounding drifts; Never mind seeing where he even put his paws in the flurry. At some point he must have miss-stepped, though everything moved so fast that he didn't notice, before suddenly the world turned upside down, the snow disappearing under his paws.
Slipping, rolling, hips and shoulders bumping painfully against hard rock while all he saw was whirling white. For a brief moment he wondered if this was the end, if he really would die on this barmy mountain. Then he landed with a thump in a large pile of snow, immediately covered by the small avalanche his tumble had caused. It was the boy's luck that he had been close to the bottom of the slope and the heavy snowfall had formed a thick pillow to cushion the fall. Now he ended up with a sore tail and ears full of snow, rather than a broken neck. Not that he was in a place to appreciate that just yet. Instead he struggled to roll over and get back on his feet, ignoring the pain until he pushed up through the cover, shaking the worst dusting from his shoulders. "Ow…" The pup mumbled, gingerly sitting back into the snowdrift and looking around, dazed. What had he gotten himself into now?