The male's claws clicked as they hit against the ice. His ears flattened back and he paused, letting out a stream of frosty air. He had been traveling for a while now, and wasn't ready to give up yet. He tilted his crania back and let out a long, throaty howl. The masculine known as Ridge didn't expect a response, but it made him feel better to know someone might be out there as well. It was quite lonely, and he wasn't really good with companionship. He turned, hearing hooves hitting against snow. Licking his jaws, he eyed the weak elk that was hobbling along. He leapt, his instincts firing up. He opened his muzzle and landed, his claws sinking into the elk's rump as he clamped down onto the bull's side. Thrashing his head around, he intended on ripping his prey's flesh off. The elk tried struggling, and began bucking as Ridge gripped onto him harder. The deer had hobbled off into the river, the rushing water slowing him down. Ridge leapt in, determined to catch his prey. Water blew him off balance, and the cold ripples of water lapped at his coat, the frosty water biting him. He lowly growled, struggling against the current as he chased after the bull elk.