Whitefish River When God is gone and the Devil takes hold

So. Much. Peeing.

As often as she stopped to relive herself, Kero stopped to gaze at the sky. While her pausing here and there never took too long it was still a bump in the road on their way back. Stoping. Peeing. Covering their tracks. She made quick work of it, but he didn't envy her condition. Instead, he took to watching and listening, standing sentinel while she took care of her basic needs.

Like thirst. With all this traveling and the summer sun, it was easy to become dehydrated. The night made things easier. Made the course smoother, but they exhausted their bodily resources all the same. Traveling by river was smart, and when the river turned they moved towards the shallower swells where this side of the river ebbed and became almost gentle in comparison to the current on the other side of the stream.

Tonravik neared the water, lowering her head to sip at its surface. Kerosene lingered, turning his ears outward as he searched the nearby area and decided their privacy was private enough. He neared her then, running his head along side her flank as he paused to tuck his nose beneath the plush underside of her belly. It was still too soon to hear or tell of what grew within her womb, but the frequent peeing was a sign his seed had taken.

He chuffed, breathing heavily once before he too drifted to the water and lowered his head to drink.