Duck Lake A whole new world

As if in a perfect embrace, colors of yellows and salmon pinks were cast upon the earth, meeting no resistance upon the calm, open lake as the setting sun flush the sky an impressive red. For her species and many others, this was a time of activity, for heat that once permeated her thick white coat began to dissapate, prey meanwhile beginning to rustle before they retired for the night. However, food was the last thing on her mind as Ceara blissfully enjoyed the pickings of fish she had indulged in over the course of that day. 

Having been happily nestled underneath the canopies of quacking aspen lining the side of the lake, characterized by their long, gangly bodies, Ceara had more than enjoyed the sweet summer fun. Her typically petite, lithe yet fuzzy frame was characterized by an out-of-place tummy gorged with fish. As a lone wolf, such meals came few and far between - Tail giving a wag, and maw cracking to reveal a wide wolfish smile, she knew life was good. A rumbling hunger was appeased for the moment, yet a tinge of longing for company, such as that around a family dinnertable, was to be expected. 

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Displacing the wee lass from her blissful food coma, a disturbance in the still environment was detectable: a slight rustle of the land and a taste within the wind timidly alerted the wolf. Doing a double-take, breathing in deep with a twitch of her moist, black nose, Ceara's brows perked with interest. Heaving upwards upon her fluffy haunches, belly protruding from her tiny form, she put her nose to the earth and neared the lake. Yet, when she left the woodlands, there stood no wolves as she expected. Tilting her head with wonder, without fear, instead with growing excitement at the possibility of an interaction, Ceara woofed to alert anyone of her presence before blindly toddling on over to the riverbank, looking like a petite cotton ball atop some stumpy, short little legs, as per usual: "Anyone there?"

Glancing around, the puffball's curiosity having morphed into full-fledged delight, her thick white tail waggled and wide fluffy ears perked forth, after a short time of a dumbfounded search, the "wolf" turned out to not be anything close. Instead, to her surprise and delight, it was instead a small rodent, a coat as amber and an appearance as welcoming as a sweet sticky honey. Yet at the time, without a twinge of hunger to be found, Ceara viewed this small rascal as not prey, not foe, but friend. Maw parting into an even bigger smile, salmon-pink tongue lolling out, Ceara shuffled excitedly in her spot upon the sight of the small thing, barking once more, though more shrill and playfully than before, she chirped "you don't look like no wolf; What are ya' then?" tilting her head once more, she wondered aloud "Do y'all water mice have names?" that was, of course, assuming that such a creature could even understand her speech. In the past, she hadn't really ever struck up a conversation with a snack, after all. If not, Ceara probably looked pretty dim - but what's new?  Resisting the urge to bat the small animal around like a cat with a plaything, Ceara eagerly awaited any kind of response.