Otter Creek Blame it on my own sick pride

It was not often Nyx took a stroll in daylight, nor in this direction. Often she came by the Greatwater Lake, for it was the perfect retreat, and she had always written this part of her surrounding areas off with the assumption that nothing much was that way. Today, though, Nyx felt mighty curious about things, even though she had not slept that night. She was a creature of night, after all, and did not fair so very well under the rays of the celestial orb.

She spotted the reddish bulk of meat in the distance even before she noticed what he was doing. Eating? So it seemed. Nyx knew better than to mess with those who were simply eating. Instead, she went to the shore and dipped her muzzle above the water, lapping some of it up while the rest streamed down her throat.