Silver Creek Part Three: Fish Breath

It was Casmir who came closer first, and Grace was comfortable to reach out and bump her muzzle against his shoulder in friendliness, sniffling softly out of instinct and taking in the scents of the Creek. He explained at once that this was not, in fact, his son, but his nephew -- "sort of", whatever that meant, but Grace took it the same as she was a Rose.... Sort of! -- and that both further confused and explained enough for her to be content. 

                 "I'm Grace."

When the pup approached, Grace lowered and introduced herself; for once it was not out of her own nerves but for Cortlands, prickled as he looked. The ink-mawed girl smiled softly, giving a few wags of her tail and moving little as he, too, took in her scent. His question surprised her, but she smiled, having forgotten about the fish she'd lost.

                              "You must be very patient, in both fishing and until I can teach you how to scoop them out with a paw; you're much too little and its much to cold for you to be getting wet."

Trying to get on good standing with Silver Creek, it wouldn't do her well to give the Betas nephew a cold before she was even permitted in the borders. The russet girl explained this gently to the young boy, keeping her smile and hoping he was not the fit-pitching type.