Blacktail Deer Plateau do I cool it or do I blow

as it turned out, there was not much moss growing on the rocks in whitefish river. perhaps he hadn't paid close enough attention to the water. scowling, he gave the water an irritable kick with a back paw, spraying icy droplets every which way.

what to do, what to do? he paced the riverbank, worry rising up within him. what if he didn't find moss? what if he didn't get back in time? what if what if what if--

---

a short time later, aditya returned to the scene with dry moss in his jaws. his fit had turned out to be premature. a small cleft in the rocky cliff hanging above the water had yielded the quarry he sought. ripping as much out as possible, he raced back to pema and dawn with his mouth liberally stuffed with greenery.

dropping it gingerly on the ground--it had gotten slightly wet; he hoped that wasn't too much of a hindrance--he sank back down to dawn's side, though his golden eyes remained upturned to pema in case she needed anything more.