We sat on a boulder high up on a plateau the soul of the slain wolf and I, we saw mountains and deep dales as far as our eyes could reach and since it was winter there were spirals of smoke coming from hunting lodges; we didn't see any towns as they were in the deepest gorges, but could hear the distant clamor of industrious humanity.
I stroked the wolves head slightly, it had not succumbed, like its cousin to, mans whims and craved no approval. A heavy mist came from the sea filled the valleys with a white blanket of silence. Slowly the mist dissipated and I sensed the wolf's soul had gone, but could hear the howl of wolves far away where my eyes could not reach.
