As happened many times in the past the Fell Ice once again charged down from the north and attacked the world in its effort to turn it into a frozen ball of ice. Only the White Magic and it's ally the Sun could stand against such a vast enemy.
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After the unexpectedly brutal autumn storm passed over the Wolfswood a large Saddleback Tundra climbed from out of a burrow he had been sharing with the rest of his pack. Once the big wolf cleared the hole he shook himself to somewhat dry his fur from the melted snow generated by the warmth of his pack mates. Five other wolves climbed out of the hole behind him each shaking themselves in turn and stretching after the close confines of the little cave. The large wolf was named Shadowback, called so because the markings in the fur of his back laid there much like the shadow one sees when the sun is gently shining through the leaves of a tree. He did not wear the typical black saddle that colored the fur on most of the wolves of his tribe.
Shadowback climbed on top of the boulders that made up the roof of the little burrow and looked out over the landscape the storm left behind. The small pack had journeyed far out on the Tundra to hunt the last of the herds of bison who were making their way south for the winter when the storm caught them. It was a successful hunt up until then and they stored away many caches of meat throughout the Wolfswood. All were within a few days journey from their clan's moon-site on the coast of the Northern Sea.
Shadowback was the only pack leader of the little group of wolves which was a very uncommon thing. Most all of the packs of the Tundra Wolves were led by a mated male and female, the Pack Duke and the Pack Duchess. Much to the sadness of he and his pack-mates their Duchess was lost over two turns past on one bright and warm summer day on the coast of the Northern Sea. On that day the three little pups of Shadowback and his mate went wandering into the mild surf of the sea and were swarmed upon by a shoal of dragon-fish. The Mistress ran to defend her little pups and stood her ground fighting off the frenzy of fish so the three could paddle to the beach and the safety of land. Shadowback ran to their aid and seeing the danger grabbed the pups one by one by the scruff of their necks and threw them up onto the shore. After he made sure they were safe he turned for her, but much to his sorrow he found he was too late. She was gone, dragged away by the swarm of deadly fish. Her name had been Birdsite and there was not a day that went by the big wolf did not miss her.
The pack was larger back then, ten wolves strong not counting the pups. After the death of their Duchess over half of the pack-mates left to join others. Only three of the wolves remained with Shadowback, two males and a female. His three pups, two daughters and a son, could not leave until they were one turn of age. Once they became turnlings they were able to decide for themselves whether to go or stay with the pack. Shadowback's son was strong and aggressive and decided to go out on his own with the hopes of finding a mate and starting his own pack. The two daughters did not want to leave their father and continued on with the small pack, much to Shadowback's delight. It was a tight-knit little group of Saddleback Tundras, fiercely loyal to their Duke and to one another.
As he looked out across the plain he knew the cold part of the turn was upon them from the covering of the deep snow the storm had left. He gazed upon the flat land that went on forever and something far off to the north, towards the Grimfang Mountains, drew his attention. It wasn't prey because the pack had many successful hunts before the storm and ate enough to satisfy their hunger for days. It was not the presence of man because he had sensed them many times before and knew their feel, especially the bad ones. It was not the Elves traveling upon the plain for if it were he would be seeing bright beacons of light, no matter how far away they might be.
