Whitefish River Someone has to face the valley

The growl was like music to his ears. It was obvious Kalganov had hit some sort of cord with the stranger. A chuckle escaped him, exposing his still boyish tones. Cool it. He cooed, if the creature still had some fight left in them then Kalganov wasn't going to bother pushing them in. As a loner, he had no one to care for him and any injuries could become lethal rather quickly. The last thing he had planned to do was die. It wasn't time. Not yet at least.

What are you doing here if not going for a dip?