Mudminnow River We need a break through

Prophet's journey from the taiga to the slightly warmer clime alongside the silty river was completed without interruption, save his need to sleep. He neither saw nor sought out any wolves along the way, a welcome change from the upper taiga, but one that brought its own lonesomeness. He was a vagabond, however, and had learned to embrace his solitude as much as it clashed with his natural preference to be around others of his own kind, so it was in an even temper and good mood that he came to the bank of the brown river.

He pricked his ears high to hear the water rushing past, but when he beheld it, he was disappointed that it lacked any clarity. The water may well have been a puddle of mud if not for the current. Nevertheless, a hardy creature was the wild wolf and he stooped down to lap at the running water in spite of how dirty it looked. The taste and grit of silt on his tongue was unwelcome, but as a loner who could at any moment be assaulted by pack wolves no matter where he was, Prophet didn't have the time or ability to be overly picky where he slaked his thirst.