Qeya River I will keep quiet, you'll never know what hit you

He had been patrolling, a silent sentinel just north of the Maplewood, when a series of sounds reached his ears--running, panting, a whine and splash, the gurgling sound of someone drinking from the river nearby. More intrigued than alarmed, Shale padded that way, wondering if perhaps one of the kids had gotten lost and thirsty.

Instead he found a black and white--well, what was it? Not a wolf, but certainly not a fox or coyote, either. Anyway, it looked harmless enough, standing there with wide eyes, and so Shale came further, giving a firm but friendly bark in greeting. Harmless it may be, but it was still quite close to Morningside's claim, and the man thought he'd better investigate.

"You lost, kid?" It was a young one, several years his junior, and a boy, judging by the scent. Shale peered curiously at his patched pelt, his own bristling slightly with anticipation.