Swiftcurrent Creek hurray for the riff raff

Despite his incredibly flighty tendencies, Haunter returned to the Creek and considered it his "home-base" if nothing else. The days had warmed considerably and he was consistently filling his belly, which put him in a good mood as far as Haunter's good moods went. His pre-dawn patrol was just ending, and he wound up at the heart of Swiftcurrent with the brazen sun on his shadowy back and his equally as yellow eyes set on the territory's namesake.

Lengthy legs took him to the closer to the edge of the rushing creek, but he paused when he noticed a young figure some yards to his right that he'd mistaken for a rock pile at a distance. He stared for an unnervingly long moment, but then reverted back to his original task which was to take a drink. He crouched and inclined his long muzzle, taking long, refreshing laps of the still winter-cool water.