A set up mismatched eyes peered up at me from a scarred golden face within the sinkhole of snow, and there was a further inkling of familiarity. Certain that Nymeria had told me of this wolf shortly before the hunt that had landed me in my seclusion for the past year, I did my best to recall his name. But the more pressing matter was extracting him from his current predicament. I nodded at his words, then set to work digging at the snow. From this angle it would certainly be easier for me to form some kind of step or ramp of compacted snow for him to use.
Though my right foreleg was not as strong as it had once been, the snow was malleable and before long I had dug away a gradual incline in the snow from the step that the dwarfed wolf had created for himself. Reaching a paw forward, I tested part of my weight upon it, ensuring it would not give way beneath him when he walked up it. There was a slight compression beneath my paw, but it seemed sturdy enough to offer him escape from the pit of snow.
Stepping back, I waited for him to give it a try, and if my efforts had been successful he would surely be on even ground with me in no time. As I had dug at the snow I had rolled through conversations had with my daughter, I and recalled a name mentioned both by Nymeria and Kalseru.