Verdant Basin A spot of bother.

The green was endless here, spreading across the undulating hills and beyond, to the trees. He lingered on the edge of it with his snout tipped down towards the fresh water of the basin, watching the typically still water shiver against the blustering wind. The wolf was blending in well among the foliage, his coat composed of earth and stone, but he was not invisible. There were other creatures visiting the basin too — herons soaring north, frogs croaking and jolting through the shallows. The wolf had been hit by a desirous thirst and was thrilled to have found the watering hole. He drank swiftly, in fits. Every new noise brought a twist to his ear, or he would pause and observe the flitting of birds, the distant calls within the woodland surroundings. Maybe if he was lucky he could find something to eat too.