Lost Creek Hollow down here all the fish is happy

It was official. The band of loners was no more; but instead a true pack. Luke's chest was swelled with pride, and he devoted himself to starting things off on the right paw. Even as thoughts of his paramour on the plateau danced in his head, he committed himself to seeing to the caches as promised. When he had taken care of his newfound responsibilities, he would be able to take a day or two for himself to travel west.

He had previously scouted a promising pool in one of the many streams that winded through their home. With a soft current flowing into it, a smooth pebble bottom and overhanging brush on either side, it promised to hold trout; and indeed, when he fished for his breakfast, he found it teeming with fish. Here, a short distance from the bank between the roots of a stately he tree, he worked to dig a cache.

His white paws stained brown as he dug, and across the stream and through the trees sang is harmonious voice. "Under the sea, under the seeeeeaaa.... darling it's better, down where it's wetter, take it from meeeee!"