Whitewater Gorge Geronimo

Suddenly, a voice shouted from overhead, echoing off the nearby rock walls and causing Wildfire to start. She jerked her head upward, squinting against the glare of the pale sky. A figure began moving toward her and the she-wolf tensed, fur prickling uneasily. He swept right up to her, a handsome young fellow with powdery gray fur and striking eyes. She quickly realized he meant her no harm, though his loud approach and concerned words earned a head tilt from Wildfire.

"I'll admit I can be a klutz," she replied lightly, "but I promise I'm being careful." She paused, quirking a brow and giving him an impish smirk as she assured him, "I'm no damsel in distress. My name's Wildfire. What's yours? If you're really worried, you can spot me," she added, starting to move again as she talked, brushing past him to keep climbing down into the canyon. "Because I'm dying of thirst and nothing's going to stop me from getting a nice cold drink."