Flycatcher Downs Everybody runs, Fletch

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She wondered what the water tasted like out here. Everywhere she went, the water tasted a bit different. Back home at the caldera, it was slightly sulfurous and gave her bad breath. Lake Rodney was cool and refreshing. At some places, the water was almost sweet. Others, it tasted like pond scum. Perhaps she would get to try a whole new flavor at the upcoming pair of small lakes and their adjoining branches.

But a voice caused her to halt and turn. Her amber gaze clapped upon a svelte she-wolf with dark chocolate fur and a bulky build. Even from this distance, the sharp-eyed youngster saw the sliver of turquoise in the stranger's otherwise golden gaze, though Wildfire quickly dropped her eyes and acquired a neutral demeanor. She wanted to make it clear she wasn't a threat.

Her lips pursed at the strangely-worded question before she replied, "I'm enjoying my travels." Was that the right way to answer? She wasn't sure. "I hope I'm not trespassing or anything," she murmured. The she-wolf hadn't given any indication of such and Wildfire hadn't smelled any territorial markings here, though she knew it was possible there was a pack somewhere close by.