Almost immediately something felt different about this time than the last few attempts he'd made at pack life. The leaders had shown their authority with decisiveness instead of outright throwing rank and provided him a trust that the stilted male did not intend to abuse. The monadnock itself was something he'd never laid eyes on before - probably the weirdest structure in all of Relic Lore, standing alone like a boulder in the sea that was the vast lowlands. This way of life was certainly different... but different seemed to suit him, so far.
Winter held fast this year, stubborn to the core and too proud to leave. Irritation twisted in his gut as he made his way down the monadnock out onto the base of permafrosted landscape ahead of him that it was still as cold as it was. He was demurely hopeful that Piety's pregnancy could outlast the winter, but they couldn't be sure. Not to mention that prey wouldn't return to the tundra if the snow kept up until June. Even now the sky had gone thick with winter clouds, precipitating a light but constant flow of flakes that threatened to turn worse with any moment. But he had given his word that he would do whatever necessary to ensure the success of this litter, and sitting out the snowfall in the communal den was not an option.
The thick winds that blew across the tundra ensured that the never-ending landscape was not silent, but deafening all the same. His tarnished gold gaze cast about the hazy expanse, blinking rapidly as errant snowflakes attempted to blind him. With a shake of his tall frame to release the layer of cold already clinging to him, he set off head held low to the ground. Dark nose twitched as the Attaya moved at a glacial pace, sweeping the tundra for any scent trail left by prey. He intended to return with something to cache or something to catch, even if it took him 'til sundown.