The wolf looked at the aftermath of the vicious battle that had just taken place. The broken, bloody bodies of his allies and enemies lay sprawled out across the snow-laden  ground, which was stained crimson from the open wounds on the wolves. He had not gone unscathed; his thick grey coat was tattered with the scars he had been given during the fight, all deep and numerous. He may be the lone survivor, but he would not stay that way long. The battle between the two packs fighting for territory had been pointless, as none would live to reap the rewards. 

After he had taken in the painful sight, he looked to the the edge of the nearby cliff the scuffle had taken place on, and looked longingly at the ancient pine that leaned toward the majestic mountains in the distance. He hesitated for a moment, then limped over to the tree to rest in it's shade.

After he had made himself comfortable, he looked out at the view before him. A sea of various snow-covered trees swayed beneath the mountain range beyond, birds flying all around the forest, singing their songs in the light of the rising sun. The wolf observed the familiar scene before him, laying his head on his blood-stained paws, and closed his eyes for the last time as the wind blew gently, carrying the warrior's spirit back to his pack's hunting grounds so he may spectate the activity of the living in the company of his packmates in peaceful immortality for the rest of eternity.