Otter Creek so have you got the guts?

three days had passed since astara had first discovered the toad which she carried around her now like a filthy doll, dragged to the ends of the earth and tattered. the toad was not fairing well - occasionally it would feebly stir a webbed foot, or puff out its soft underthroat and those were the only signs that it still stubbornly clung to life, as astara still stubbornly clung to it.

she had wandered again from home, this time following the sounds of moving water until she came to a bank that gurgled softly; between the tall reeds she saw an immense figure hunched on the bank. wordlessly the girl drew towards it, the toad in her mouth as she bobbed her head and tried to decipher from the dappled shade just who the wolf was, and if it was possibly someone she knew.