Arrow Lake every breath of borrowed time is heavy in my chest.

His heart raced; breath came to him in bursts, his tongue soon lolling from one side of his muzzle, and once there he noticed a warmth to the fur of his snout that earned a lick. The strong metallic taste of blood startled him, but soon Mesa was cleaning himself off properly—almost obsessively.

When Takiyok spoke he gave a wolfish grin in response, the expression dominating his face. Can we do that again? Asks the boy, brimming with vigor, an abundance of confidence that overwhelmed every other aspect of the situation; he did not heed her questions, and began to root around with his nose inches from the soil, eager to find a second target. I betcha I can do one all by myself! But that was unlikely, considering his lack of experience.