Cricket Creek Bog west coast blues

When Wildfire spotted the figure in the distance, her heart skipped a beat. In the very next moment, she felt ridiculous. Peregrine was long dead. Besides, this wolf appeared to be missing a tail. Her chestnut eyes tracked him as he moved south, toward the bog bordering the copse. He disappeared into the distance and Wildfire bit her lower lip. She should resist the foolish impulse to trail her father's ghost, yet something compelled her forward nonetheless.

She tracked the stranger's scent and soon spotted him again, closing the distance and announcing herself with a sharp bark. Wildfire's brow furrowed when she noticed he was stumbling. Was he hurt? She slowed her step, wishing to help—not that she knew much about medicine—but also wary of cornering an injured stranger.