Winter's grip was firm upon Moladion, its grasp felt none more strongly than in Spirane. The mountains, capped in snow almost year round, took much of the brunt of the coldest season's wrath. As a monolith towering above the rest of the country, the high altitudes of our home were not for the faint of heart to attempt to weather the winter months. But if one was willing to endure the frigid winds of one day, they might experience the glory of the next. When the sun shone between days of heavy gray clouds, it made the mountain come alive, a glimmering spectacle of beauty. My own thick pelage was made to tolerate the sub-freezing temperatures, tufts of hair growing even between each toe to insulate against the snow. The cold invigorated me, and I trod along well worn paths through the snow, loping with practiced ease across my mountainous home, if nothing else for the simple pleasure of stretching my legs.
There was always more to it than that, of course - for an alphas work is never done. Since reclaiming my home nearly three years prior, I had ramified the rank structure of the pack and created more opportunities for wolves to show their individual strengths to not only me, but their peers as well. Some wolves had risen to the challenge, while others had rested on their laurels. And so, each day I ventured across the mountainside, keeping an eye on the activities of my pack mates, always keeping in mind where each wolf's strengths might lie, and devising ways to help them realize their potential.
A solitary howl lifted on the breeze, one unfamiliar that slowed my pace and brought me to a halt. Ears perked forward, listening as the call began to fade, its message clear. Before the voice ceased altogether, my nose tipped towards the heavens and I answered, letting the wolf know she'd been heard and that the protector of these lands would join her shortly. Lowering my head, I continued along the path I had been following until it branched off, giving me passage into the foothills of my home. During winter traversing the mountainside became even more of a challenge than it was during the rest of the year, thick compacts of snow creating dangerous traps for the unsuspecting wolf. Despite knowing these lands better than almost any wolf in Moladion - except perhaps my elder brother, who had resided here longer than any living wolf - I was still wary of the wills of nature and the mountain herself.
Upon reaching the more easily traversable foothills that bordered Spirane, my gait extended and snow puffed up around me as I cut a fresh path through the powder. Occasionally I slowed, trotting with high steps as I glanced around in search of the caller. In one of these cases, as my gaze flicked along the boundary of my pack, the shewolf's presence became only all too apparent. Though her limbs may well have blended with the off white snow that blanketed the lands, the red that caped her top-line made her stand out starkly against the environment.
With tail waving out stiffly above the line of my back, I crossed the final distance to her at a jog. Stopping with a wolf length between us, I nodded my head in greeting, though my dial remained aloft with confidant poise.