Whitefish River turn down for what

Osprey Jr. knew the rules: they were not to leave the rendezvous site without adult supervision. Yet the others had had their adventures, so now it was her turn. While Peregrine slept fitfully in the shade of a spruce and the other pups played a game of tag, Junior slipped away into the cool afternoon woods. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she broke into a short sprint, putting distance between herself and the clearing, as if its gravity might tug her back against her will.

She knew someone would find her or call for her soon enough, so Osprey took full advantage of her free time and ran around the woods like a wild woman. She eventually found her way to the plateau's southwestern ledge. "Whoooa!" she exclaimed as her mismatched eyes clapped upon the panoramic view. She'd seen it before, technically, but without an adult's shadow looming over her, it seemed so much more wild and expansive.

Using her sniffer, Junior located the head of the trail that led downward into neutral territory. She jogged down the path, crossing over the invisible boundary line (she wrinkled her nose at the scent of the Alphas' pungent urine). She approached the river bank and spent about three seconds admiring the sparkly water before leaping straight into the shallows with a bark of laughter.