Swiftcurrent Creek hurray for the riff raff

Young Bones now felt reasonably familiar with and settled into the creek's territory, having spent three whole days exploring its every nook and cranny. Presently, she walked along the water, keeping an eye out for fish, frogs or snakes to catch for an easy meal. The noontime sun hung in a perfectly blue sky and a slight breeze ruffled the pewter fur of her nape. It smelled vaguely salty, which made the youth's stomach pinch, yet she brushed off the feeling.

It was now time to find her pack mates, get to know them and, of course, start asking around about her father. Armed with only his name, Bones was inexplicably convinced she would find him somewhere around here. Most likely the result of her limited worldview and guilelessness, she personally chalked it up to a special instinct she must possess, as if his shared blood called to her own, orienting her inner compass.

The pup licked her dry lips and located a clear patch of fresh grass on the shore. She circled and sat down, then slid forward onto her belly. She dipped her paws into the water and relaxed, taking a break to lay in the sunshine before she continued her dual vocations: finding pack mates and locating her father. Maybe, if Bones was really lucky, he was here and she could kill two birds with one stone!