The cold crisp air brought memories, some more painful than others. His love, she saved him in the snow. He confessed his love in the snow. They were playing in the snow. Snow, snow snow. The painful yet beautiful snow, the color of her soft fur.
The wolf shook his head to clear it. He needed to get over it. She had never came back. The male was a good ways up the stairs, almost to the top. He was mostly black, with a tan under belly and almost full muzzle. He had strange markings on his forehead, and earring in his ears. He had a slight frown on his muzzle, but the moment he reached the top of the stairs, he turned it into a straight face. He sat there, waiting for someone to walk by.