I sniff at the cold air, blinking away the frost. It was almost winter, and the herd animals were headed south, so that's where I was going.

I set out, heavy paws thudding duly on the earth. As I break the forest, I see hundreds of animals, all heading to warmer weather.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about the cold, my winter coat would grow in before first frost, and I would be right as rain. As it stands, I follow the herds, the only reliable source of food.

I trot alongside them at a distance, keeping a lookout for other predators. Every year it's the same, the herds move, the predators follow.

My ears flicker at the gentle rustle of fur on branches. I pause, turning to the newcomer. Another dire wolf. A pack by the looks of it. I knew these wolves, we migrated together every year.

I nod to them. They nod back.

I continue my track, the pack following in my stead.

It wasn't long before I saw something odd. A mammoth, going in the opposite direction of the herds.

I tilt my head, one ear shooting up and the other flopping down. You didn't see many mammoths nowadays, elusive as they were. Not to mention one this far south. And all alone, they usually traveled in herds.

The mammoth seems to notice me staring, sending a glare at me. I stair a moment longer, before continuing along with the herds.

I trot for a few paces, turning back to see the mammoth continuing its trek.

I look ahead to see my fellows many paces forward. I frown, looking back to the retreating mammoth.

I turn, continuing alongside the herds.

###

By nightfall the herds had settled down to rest.

I stalk along the border of the forest, sniffing. My tail twitches. I lunge.

I carry my catch to the patch of boulders I would sleep on, leaping atop them with minimal effort.

My catch was a young Magaceros, no more than a couple years old at most. It had strayed to far from the safety of the herds, and it payed for that.

As I eat, I survey the herds. They were used to predators at migration, for we had always been there. They knew the risks of letting their young wander off.

And a wolf has to eat.

I sigh, licking the bones of blood.

My ears flicker as another wolf approaches my nesting rock.

Male, light brown and tawny fur, green eyes. I knew him.

I nod 'Hello Crag' I say in our partly-silent tongue.

He nods back to me 'Hello Taiga' he says, surveying the sleeping animals 'Good hunting?'

I shrug 'Decent. The chaos of migration always makes parents so very forgetful' I deadpan, motioning to the scarce remains of my meal.

Crag laughs 'That it does. Say, you're not using those bones are you?'

I shake my head 'Help yourself'

He grins, scooping up a few bones 'Thank you, sister'

I smile 'Anytime. Happy hunting, brother'

He trots off, pleased.

I watch my hunting brother go. I turn away, settling in for the night. Cold pulls at my fur, a frost settling in until the sun warms the earth. I curl my tail over my nose and drift off.