Shadowwyn Moor You want fries with that?

AW but please allow his companion, French Fry, to post first =)

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An involuntary groan fled from the dog's chest as the air was squeezed out of him with a sit. His forelimbs trembled slightly, as though beset with a chill, though this physical manifestation of weakness was due simply to being tired.
 
"Sit, Fry." He words were kind but firm. Chestnut colored eyes cast over his shoulder to verify that his companion could hear over the sound of his furiously shuffling feet. Mac might've been the smarter of the two but the Retriever could run circles around him all day. And with the amplified height of excitement (and minute dread) between them the golden brother was little more than a live wire; the sheer sight of him dipping and diving in every direction at once elicited an exhausted sign from the elder canine. "Sit," he said again - oftentimes Fry needed a small reminder - before he glanced across the moor from which they'd wandered to.
 
He ached for his people. Why weren't they here? He thought surely if they returned to the campsite that everything would be fine. Except (unbeknownst to him) this wasn't the camp. Camp was over 30 miles in the other direction...and no human had ever wandered out this far into the wilderness.
 
His droopy ears perked as he glanced to Fry to see if perhaps he had any input.