Davan stepped lightly over the misty, damp hills. The early morning chill sent his thick coat on end to preserve heat. This was the last place he’d found in his journeys that pleased him greatly. Lifting his maw and raising his red-flagged tail, Davan howled out his ownership to the gray skies. The pink scars on either side of his throat showed perfectly as he lifted his head. “These lands belong to me, now!” He called. The long, low, grating howl beat across the jagged crests of the hills and flowed for miles throughout the lands.

The massive brown and gray wolf listened to the howls diminish, red auds perking to catch the very last, faint traces. Smiling, he loped down the hill, off to mark his boundaries.