Tuktu Weir maybe I'm a different breed

Going to tack an ending on and archive since this thread is getting old!

The boy regarded his companion skeptically when she insisted that she wouldn't be any better at coordinating their plan of attack. Just about anyone would make a better planner than Dash, he was quite certain of this, but he figured it would be pointless to argue with this girl who seemed to insist on depreciating herself.

Dash did not need to be prompted twice; he shook his coat out as soon as the girl backed away. With his long, damp fur now puffed-up and sticking out in all directions, (if it was possible) he looked even stupider now than he had looked perched atop the dam, bowing to his audience of one. 

The boy's shaking subsided almost immediately. "Well.." he considered the lady's question, and then considered some more. Now that he was being asked to explain himself, Dash realized that this was something which had never before been required of him. His sister had just always gone along with his hairbrained ideas... she had never stopped to ask why they were doing what they were doing. 

"It's like..." he started again, apple-green gaze sweeping out over the weir. "Like, this giant nasty-ass puddle used to be a creek, right? A pretty little creek that you could, I dunno, build a pack around. But now... uh.." Dash paused for a moment, losing his train of thought. "Uh.. the, uh, the beavers.. the beavers came, and they.. they put this shit pile here, and the creek flooded, and now this place is ruined. You could never build a pack here." 

Dash was on a roll now. His eyes sparked to life as he realized that his inexplicable hatred for beavers wasn't inexplicable at all. "Like, what if they have a bunch of beaver babies? And those babies decide to go flood the other creeks around here! This whole damn forest will be underwater, and elks can't swim so they'll die, and then what are the Rosings wolves gonna hunt, huh? What if- what if there are so many beavers that they spread over to Silver Creek and flood Rosings, huh? We should just save ourselves the trouble and kill 'em now, while there aren't so many." 

Dash nodded as he finished, looking very pleased with himself for offering such a logical explaination. He hadn't known he had it in him. 

...

Although he was no longer soaked, the cold was beginning to sink in through the dampness of Dash's pelt. The woman's previous idea to head back to Rosings and warm up was looking better and better. "Buuut I'm thinking we can make a better attack plan from a den. You know, where they can't overhear us." Dash grinned and tilted in head in the direction of Rosings. The woman wouldn't argue with him. Rosings ladies never did. He started forward, knowing the lady would follow.