Silvertip Mountain Bound by the world

The waterfall was a magnitude of water, cascading violently over the edge. Mason’s eyes widened and he shifted nervously. He had no problem with puddles, but this was a very big puddle indeed. Father went and sat right next to the water, which was never still, always moving as the fall from above crashed upon its surface and sent ripples to the furthest edges of the pool. 

He listened carefully to his father’s explanation of why they were here. The voice was harder to hear over the roar of the waterfall but he managed with his keen ears. Mason glanced wide-eyed at June, then back at his Dad. These were the two people he trusted among all others, it was true. 

Mason lifted himself up from his seated position and patted one nervous paw upon the pool’s surface. It felt cool but not too cold to his wolfish fur. Mason took a deep breath, glanced at Fitz, then stepped into the pool. The roar of the waterfall seemed to grow louder, until it felt like a bear was at his back. Mason teetered nervously with all four paws now in the water, and it tickling the white strands that hung down from his belly. 

“Now, Dad?” he queried over the noise. He wasn’t even sure what name he was supposed to be picking. What did he aspire to be? Fitzdutiful?