Otter Creek Outside tripping in the broken city

AW

Pallas worked excitedly up and down the bank, her nose pulled to the damp earth and her tail swaying wildly like the tail end of a whip's lash. The earth, muddled by her tracks, bore the scent of a muskrat. She had traced the meandering trail to this creek, where the thing had slipped into the water without any further mark. Disgruntled but not dismayed, the white-furred wolf parted through the reeds and sunk into the water. Gentle ripples emanated from her and about her feet the detritus in the water rose until all the water around her was a dark bloom of rippling amber.