Porcupine Ridge simmer down boy

love this love this love This love this

Slavik continued to play his game, throwing his paws on the ground to make deep tracks, throwing dust clouds up behind him and watching them dissipate. He got into a rhythm, a beat he could hear clearly that was satisfying to his ears. So when he heard a faint percussion stomp not on beat, he was puzzled. And then there it was again, another drum that did not follow his rhythm. He whirled around, his head down in reflexive defense. His sun ray eyes snapped to a silhouette, dark and large, surrounded by its own clouds of dust. 

At first he was wary, who was this guy and why was he following Slavik? But his thoughts changed when he realized that the other was mimicking him with similar amusement. Slavik softened his stance, then barked, his voice a friendly greeting. Once he had the other’s attention, he would swipe his front paw towards the ground, sending another cloud of dust up. It was a playful gesture that he hoped would be returned.