Otter Creek On the colorful flowers grown upon the dust and moss

A tiny songbird burst into a fit of chirps and trills, proudly proclaiming his ownership of this particular tree in which he was perched, and inviting all females in range to chill at his sweet bird pad. Ah spring. The gray wolf sleeping under the shelter of it's branches grunted and put his paws over his ears, trying to muffle the noise. Nearby, a second song floated into the air, claiming his tree was better and all the girls should come flocking to him, and before long the air was polluted with the voices of songbirds desperately trying to one up each other and get laid. Koda growled and pulled himself to his feet, muttering under his breath as he stalked off to the creek for a morning drink.

Still not fully awake, Koda stumbled over to a tree stump and raised a leg to relieve himself. It was then that he noticed Pallas on the bank. "Oh...um...hey there."