Lost Creek Hollow Nemo Sine Vitio Est

Gannet was hugely interested to hear she had been born here apparently around the same time as he, and he waved his tail at the connection. That also meant she'd enjoyed the story, and he liked that more.

After the snow. He replied, nodding. The snow had in reality been a blizzard, one that had forced the pack into shelter and separated him, lost in a world of white. I got lost, and went somewhere. Met some packs that were nice. I saw sand and cliffs and big rivers. The mesas and canyons had been his favorites. But it was lonely.

Traveling with Whip had been better. But even that... it wasn't like a pack. Packs were safety and company and never feeling alone.