Bearclaw Valley For some birthday or some Christmas that has come and gone

Nunataq didn't move for just long enough that Lucas' attention began to wander, so when she zipped forward he was already off balance. He tried his best to redirect, throwing his torso upward into the air and trying to catch the swifter pup with his forelimbs, but she was already gone by the time he drove his weight down. He spun around and lumbered several steps in her direction, and then suddenly plunked down on his stomach in the grass, legs splayed.

Gosh, he was tired. Lucas hadn't noticed it until his throat hurt from breathing hard, but she had tuckered him out and it was catching up to him. He popped open his mouth into a wide grin and panted heavily, letting his sides heave as he waited out the sudden bout of exhaustion. Okay, Nunataq, you win this competition for who's the best athlete. Lucas wasn't going to be winning any Olympic medals any time soon.

He needed a drink, though, and slurped his tongue over his lips futilely.