Lost Creek Hollow the milk is drying up

luke's steps intensified in their speed, and lasher threw caution aside to follow, gathering strength from a wellspring to match that of his younger paramour's, if only for a moment. the wind razed deliciously across his dark fur -- he was drunk upon the heady nature of their pursuit -- but all at once he faced the dancing eyes and azure features of the creek wolf. unable to check his momentum so suddenly, lasher slowed and turned his body at the last moment to avoid the collision of their muzzles, though he tumbled quite firmly with shoulder and flank into the front of luke's body, chuckling deep in his throat.