Sex: FemaleSkirting the nearby pack had been no issue at all. Their borders were a blazing beacon of warning to any who would dare come near that the territory was occupied. While the few opportunities of raiding caches had taken less effort, the reward had not been worth the punishment each time she'd been caught. Even by the rank, strong scent of this pack, she could tell she'd likely find as little mercy as she did near those willows on the other side of the mountain range. As she'd allowed her nose to lead her away from pack markers, she let it lead her towards the nearby water source.
In no time at all, scent was joined by sound. Pip could recognize the sound of water over stone any day. Encouraged - for it meant the cold had not frozen its surface to make drinking and fishing harder - she stepped higher through the snow in high hopes.
The little mute was quick to perch herself on a wide, flat boulder just off the bank. Laying down, she reached her neck down to lap thirstily at the water. Despite the snow, it was always more fulfilling to drink from a river rather than crunching on snow. Aside from being able to quench her thirst, the wolf's lips curled in a pleased smile. What luck for her...
A grayling. She learned about them from her father who would prefer to fish the rivers and streams rather than the ocean. Their large dorsal fin and iridescent scales made them easy to identify. Slowly, Pip's tail swished over the stone, tossing snow into the rushing water streaming around her perch. She gauged the distance. Just out of reach from where she lay. If she stood, she might spook it. Carefully, Pip gathered her hindlimbs underneath herself to prepare for launching the distance needed. Fearless of the biting cold, the mute plunged her head in and grabbed hold of the arctic grayling. She could practically feel her belly sobbing with relief.