Swiftcurrent Creek the black lips

When he began to lap the water off her face, Bones blinked and squirmed away, though not because it was awkward but because it tickled! "Staaahp," she begged with a girlish laugh, batting at his face with a damp silver paw.

He asked her about a den and the youth shook her head, sending water dripping. "I like to sleep out in the open. Dens are for sprogs," she scoffed with a gentle smile, knowing full well that several of the wolves here—possibly including Ferdie—chose to keep dens.

Although the thicket was cramped, Bones dropped to the ground and curled into a ball, hoping it would help her warm up her cold, wet body. She even tucked her nose under her tail, though her green eyes remained open, flicking between Ferdie's shadowy face and the stormy weather beyond the thicket.