Something had told him to leave that day. Told him to shift, told him to check the borders. He was somewhat uneasy about it, considering another wolf had appeared on the borders just the day before. The feeling of dread he'd been experiencing in the pit of his stomach had yet to wane even the slightest, and on this particular day, it was stronger than ever. He stood two-legged in the cold, for a moment watching the snow fall from the sky, for a moment watching the flakes meet the ground.
When he heard the light whimpers and grunts of what vaguely sounded like a child, the air in his lungs caught and his green eye flashed from place to place. Slight movement from the ground just yards away--a pup? There was no time wasted; talons dug into the ground and he immediately dropped to his knees, eye wide and hand reaching down to aid the small thing. She stared up at him blankly, wearily, like she couldn't see him at all. Who was she? His eye flashed around for a parent, another soul of any kind--nothing. Just a tired, cold child in the snow, all alone. He sympathized with that.
Eye thinned painfully, carefully reaching to lift her from from the ground with his one good arm. "I don't know who you are," he said gently, voice devoid of any anger, "but you're coming with me." If she could talk, she would. She could tell him who she was, that she needed help--or she could tell him to leave her alone. He didn't care. The brute ripped the fabric that held his arm in its sling from his shoulder and winced when he had to carefully lower his arm, but managed to wrap the small child within it and took to his feet, hurrying to the nearest source of warmth--a cabin, not far away--child in one arm, the other hanging limply at his side as he went.