Whitefish River the road goes ever on

Without withdrawing her forepaws from the water, Shreya turned her muzzle to regard the boy. So far, she respected him because he had height, youth and growing bulk — a good bodyguard for a caravan of vulnerable creatures. It's Casmir, isn't it, she recalled first off.

Stiff and sleepy, a little bit windy, but otherwise chipper, she replied, frank as ever. How're your spirits holding up?