Year 3072, the world is engulfed in ice and snow. A race to figure things out. The last few thousand humans reside at the shoreline of the ocean, praying. A century ago, religion was corrupted by the means of science, the idea just seemed to fall away. But not even science could keep children from freezing to death or starving. Almost all animals are gone. Atleast in human eyes. A few, smart species keep low profiles, residing near the core of land masses. Some towns are vague in these areas, and more humans are pushing themselves to their limits for one thing: wolves. When everything was turned to snow, when crops were destroyed, a single man stepped forward. He was burly, a commoner. The man spoke of the demons of the North. How their fearlessness has kept them alive as the world grew dark.
When the sun stopped rising, people lost faith in their futures.The man was impounded for scaring the populous, but as more and more died, his trivial story seemed more plausible. Suddenly, everyone needed to hear more of him. Media sought for him. They checked the prisons, but the guards would scratch their heads and simply mutter how crazy paparazzi was, that no burly man was kept there. So they made up a story. He seemed so intrigued by wolves, although they were practically a myth by the thirty-first century. They released a newspaper one morning, saying the man had turned into a beast with the help of his brethern to escape a frigid death. At this point, mad from starvation and cold, people believed. They wanted immortality too. Many took on a new occupation, one that had been practiced for centuries: hunters. A few wanted to scam the pitiful ones with faux wolf hides, their plan was to approach a customer on the streets, dressed thickly in coats and present them wolf fur. Very precisely, they'd tell them for an expensive fee, they'd be able to wear the coat and become a wolf. With the beasts representing warmth and immortality, they'd accept. The crazy, desperate fools would run around, squawking about their new wolf bodies. Idiots. Others wanted to sacrifice as many wolves as they could to please the big man upstairs. They were dead set on having the sun rise again and melt the snow.
Wolves on the otherhand, were struggling, despite what humans thought. Nomad packs were extremely aggressive and violent battles would erupt if a wolf outside the monarch approached. It wasn't as wolves had acted a century ago, they rarely fought to kill, but as the stakes rose and with the God of Death swift on their paws, they just became more gruesome. They have one idea in mind: find the highest point on the ever changing continent of America and there, the Gods would uncover the one who would lead them to a fresh meadow with an abundance of prey. Its not only other wolves that are a threat. Humans, bears, cougars, whatever else was big and hungry. Its not survival of the fittest, its survival of the desperate.
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This territory is mostly a large stretch of pine forest extending towards the base of the mountains to the west and the pastures of Man to the south. There is caribou wandering this area, but look closer, you might just see the hungry predators eying your kill.
The territory extends roughly over the Ambrotos Mountains. The wolves here take no heed to the uneven paths or the occasional loose rock that will cause them to plunge to their deaths.
Near the base of the mountain where the Heima reside, the territory is barren besides a small patch of trees and a frozen lake. To cross the lake in summer is a dangerous sport, its hard to tell how frozen the lake is and falling in, well, no-one wants to find out from experience.
A dangerous place to go, but when the odds are against you, it might be your only hope for food. As humans encroach and place their livestock out here, the hunger might drive a wolf across the snowy lands, it might drive them to dig under the fence and kill one of Man's stupid, slow abominations while they obliviously paw at the snow for dead grass.
Probably one of the highest points in the area. The mountain is known formally as Akiak Mountains, meaning brave. Many wolves might try to scale it and try to talk to the Gods, but none make it. Most wolves tend to hang out at the base, it's an especially common meeting place for wolves.
Once in a while, these rolling, white hills will be noisy with the baying on sled dogs. Men often take their dogs onto these hills, and try to fish at the pond. It's best to stay back if you see them, the dogs tend to ignore wolves and Men can't stand to see them.
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