I’ve always had a soft spot for the creatures you meet on the edge of the map—
the ones that don’t need us and would prefer we keep moving. They make the world
feel alive without asking for anything in return, which is more than I can say
for most survival game wolves I’ve met.

• Wolves: Not cuddly. Not friendly. Still iconic. There’s a presence
  to them—quiet authority with teeth. In games they try to delete my save file; in
  the wild they’re a reminder that I’m not the main character.
• Foxes: Mischief with a tail. Blink and they’re gone. Every time I see one
  I’m convinced the universe still has a sense of humour and better footwork than me.
• Owls: Night-shift rangers. They watch, they wait, they don’t explain.
  Perfect energy for anyone who prefers observing over announcing.

Honourable mentions: deer for the effortless calm, and ravens for the commentary.
All best appreciated from a respectful distance with a thermos in hand.

In short: I like the quiet ones—the clever, self-contained locals of the forest.
I’ll keep the chaos; they can keep the dignity. That feels like a fair trade.