Riley

"I won't back up. I won't give up. And I won't shut up."
A scrawny one-year-old wolf kicked up powdered snow as she ran up the ridge, then stopped at the top. She turned and stared disapprovingly down at the pack below.
"I said get," roared a young male wolf that looked not much different from her.
"You'll learn," she barked back, standing firm against the biting wind at the top of the ridge. "Mark my words, Duke, you'll learn!"
The massive wolf behind Duke snarled. "This'll teach you, Riley."
Riley threw her head back and howled, and without another word, she ran off.
Food was scarce in the Valley Storm Pack. Why wouldn't it be? When food was good, her pack hunted for trophies. Each young wolf wanted the pride of telling Alpha Cirrus that they were the one who took down the biggest male moose, the nagging coyote, the enemy alpha. That meat was then never consumed, for they would have already hunted enough to feed the entire pack -- even after Alpha Cirrus had taken his share three times over, and even when they burned energy like forest fires by practicing their fighting skills and fending off any outsiders. Times would be good, for awhile, but they would always neglect to consider the dry spells.
What few deer were left would die or migrate. New young fawns and calves would not be born. A single scrawny squirrel would be a prize catch, and even then, Alpha Cirrus would wolf it down whole. Alpha Cirrus, and his mate Fawn, would get their fill of any food first. Then came their pups, in whatever the current pecking order was - Duke was often among the first, but occasionally Riley took his place. Then came any wolves who had managed to fight their way into the pack - no small feat - and any pups would be last, in order of strength.
The weakest pups often became the next day's dinner.
Though she had it comparatively good, Riley watched far too many ill or weak pack members die, her heart especially going out to the pups. From time to time, she'd sneak out hunting at night and bring back small meals for the young ones, until she was caught and thrown into a fight with Alpha Cirrus - and then, never again.
Meanwhile, any intruder - even loners who only meant to pass through, or lost wanderers - were chased off violently or killed. The only ones permitted to stay were the ones who could hold their own against the scouts who found them.
At last, when there was almost no food to be found in the Valley Storm Pack's territory, yet Alpha Cirrus and Fawn continued to gorge themselves on anything that was scrounged up, Riley declared that she had had enough.
She found a grouse for herself while hunting, and in her hunger, hunkered down to for once take first dibs on her own catch. Unfortunately for her, her brother Duke discovered her, and she was accused of trying to starve Alpha Cirrus. She lashed out in anger at the hypocrisy, but that only earned her a sentence of being exiled from the pack.
The Valley Storm Pack didn't believe that little Riley would stay away for long - it was a ruse to show her the harsh realities of life without a pack, and convince her to return submissively. Truth be told, Riley didn't believe she'd be able to make it either, but the thought of having to return was enough to make her do it, or die trying.
Her first order of business was simply to leave - to get out of the valley and get as far away as she could. She ran, and didn't look back until she could run no longer and collapsed.
It was there where she fell that she was discovered by a female golden wolf. She initially cowered, but when the golden wolf began to laugh, she realized this wolf was nothing like her old pack - in fact, she was friendly, gentlehearted, and welcoming. Sunblaze, the old alpha of the Madison Range Pack, was quick to offer her a beaver carcass from the pack's territory, which was teeming with life.

Pack Introduction under Riley:
The icy wind blows from the north, tossing your fur and blinding you. As tears well up involuntarily against the cold wind, you begin to wonder why you came this far. The only thing of interest past this barren land is a truly frozen world, a glacier -- and it's where wolves go to die, or so you've heard.
Yet you are alone, and while the land is unforgiving to your tired paws, the other wolves surely find it the same way. What few wolves there are, aren't likely to go out of their way to start a battle in this weather, right?
You stop dead in your tracks as the wind blows a faint, eerie howl to your ears, but then you keep walking. Surely it was nothing, just the wind echoing off the mountains in the distance. And yet...
There it was again. Again you stop, flicking your ears and considering your options. As you stand there, you get the distinct feeling you're being watched. Your hackles stand up, and slowly, you turn around. (The scenery doesn't change. A wolf could get lost in a place like this, you think, and they'd never be found, either)
The only clue about the figure in the distance is a few black marks that stand out against the silvery, snow-coated surroundings. It takes you a minute to work out what it is -- an ash-colored wolf, snow dusting her black face, ears, and back. A black pouch is slung over her shoulders, and as she walks closer, you see a necklace made of... owl talons?
Not good, you think worriedly as she continues to approach. You grow more and more tense the closer she gets, and you register that she is close enough to attack before you could even react, but something tells you not to lunge for her.
"This is no place for a lone traveller," she says over the gusts of wind -- maybe yells, but her voice is so drowned out it sounds like she's only speaking regularly. But that hypothesis is confirmed when you try to answer, and you can't even hear your own voice until you raise it to a scream.
"This is your territory?"
Her ears twitch towards you but she doesn't answer. Instead, she turns, but watches you over her shoulder. "A storm is coming," she points out, indicating the darkening horizon that definitely isn't nightfall, even in this land where the days are short in winter (is it winter? It could be summer. How can anyone tell?). "Follow me... and keep up." Her tone on this last comment is warning, and suddenly she takes off at a run.
Caught off guard, you find yourself running before you can really consider why. You chase her down a hill, around a short cliff, over barren ground, past some tasty-looking caribou, and off towards the mountains.