The Floodlands You never go to parties.

The plateau was so flat Quixote was just imagining the whole thing being drowned under an inch or so of water for a few days before it had the chance to run off. Dens suddenly having swimming pools and all the lovely squishing. Ew.  Enough of it was marshy as it was.  There were still some trees though.  Or at least more evenly spread, seemed like.  Instead of just all in that one corner.  It would make it awkward to take a nap under a tree if he had to walk across the entire territory to do so.  Bushes didn't seem nearly so elegant. 

She had a pretty good choice of mountain to have her accident on, then.  Seemed like it had pretty much everything you'd need.  I liked it.  And he'd probably miss it until he got used to stuff here.  He wasn't super fond of change unless he'd thoroughly researched it first and a hawk giving a talons up didn't count.  And that's about the right length story for me.  Where I grew up, they always told these stupidly long things to try to inspire us to fight or whatever.  Had something to do with everyone's names too, but I never did pay enough attention to figure out why some of them kept calling me Don.  It wasn't part of his name -- he didn't even have all the right letters.  But it was also another weird brief history story, even if Towhee probably didn't care to hear much about his past.

After another look at the falls, he turned back and asked,  Are more places gonna end up with names like that?  It wouldn't surprise him, and if they were all named after dead folks maybe it'd be some insight into why the pack was the way it was.