Whitefish River all I need is to be struck

The pieces still had yet to fall into place, though if nothing else, this, she was sure of. Kaistleoki was coming together more quickly than she’d imagined. It seemed that between her time leaving and returning to the territory, their numbers had nearly doubled; Dulce was just as grateful as she was terrified. Most of her time not spent worrying about her inevitable failure was used at the border, patrolling, marking, and welcoming various newcomers. 

The river was eventually going to become a beacon for prey and predator alike; spring was leaving to make way for summer and everyone would be anxious to cool down. Midway through her route, Dulce spotted the head of a stranger bobbing in the water.  For a moment, she stood and watched, remembering what it felt like to be free. 

Stranger? she finally called out, tail curled midway above her back. Technically, Dulce didn’t have a rank yet, but that was neither here nor there. Can you swim? It seemed nonsensical to ask a question with such an obvious answer, but Dulce was otherwise at a loss for words.