Arrow Lake zaftig

He had been chasing one thing or another, all day. It started as an attempt to impress upon his siblings that he was fast, and strong, but with his fickle attention span and lack of follow through, the boy had wasted away most of the day without a positive result. As dusk fell he could be spied worrying at something in the underbrush.

Whatever it was soon escaped him — and with a huff the boy gave up, stalking across an expanse of scrub grass with an agitated gleam in his eye. That is, until he spotted Mahler. He didn't approach, but reached with his snout to sniff the air — a silent, where you been?