Falls of the Hinterlands The best game ever

Of course, I've tried to fix it so it makes somewhat sense. Set by the river between Cedar Sweep and the Falls.

He reached the riverside with his golden pelt dried in clumps, making him look even more bedraggled than when he'd emerged from his bathe in the lake. Stooping low, he let the very tip of his muzzle brush the surface of the water as he washed the collected residue off the his nose. Once he'd finished, he slumped, exhausted, as he rolled to one side and gripped the base of a stick that'd began to needle its way into his rump. It was fun, he supposed, being out on his own and away from moors. But even the best expeditions didn't come without their downsides.

Through jaded eyes he watched as a figure approached. The moorland boy didn't need her bark to know she was there, watching him like an angered snake. With a wry smile, he stretched and rolled up to recline onto his haunches all the while wondering in the back of his mind what he'd done to upset her. "Hey," he spoke and offered her a dash of his bi-coloured eyes, "the whole 'lying-in-wait' thing really suits you." With a shake of his head, his teeth flashed in a grin and he rose to his paws.