[p] till it's gone
Mid-afternoon, and yet the warmth of the sun didn't reach the land. No, the sky was a sullen gray instead of a vivid blue with a sun that seemed uninterested in thawing the frost and chill that lingered upon the earth. Most things were cloaked in at least a sheen of frost which desaturated all but the deep russet of the redwoods. Rich scents of tree bark were at war with the sterile smell of winter and its snow. Remington had never been in a land such this, ravaged by the cold constantly. It seemed like it would be a difficult place to survive, but surely far better than his former pack?

The titan would press forward with slow, certain strides, making sure they sunk fully into the ground and made purchase before lifting another. It wouldn't do to slip; he wasn't used to such a slick environment. Despite the cover the towering wood offered, frost still sheathed the ground in a treacherous cloak of frost. If one weren't careful they could easily land flat on their face - that would be quite an embarrassing first impression to make on any near enough to witness such an incident. Dark nose twitched as the coffee-hued wolf did his best to pick out the scent of any nearby prey. Sensing anything would take some time, what with the snowy environment hiding most smells from predators used to less wet, frigid environments. Emerald gaze flickered toward a movement among the tree trunks, paws pausing.

"You've been seen, I'm afraid." Remington would state, rumbling voice echoing through the forest as the baritones bounced off the tree trunks. He'd say so with a tinge of amusement as he turned to face the direction in which the figure had been headed. It'd be a shame if he were merely talking to a deer; hopefully it was indeed a wolf he'd seen.


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