Lost Creek Hollow One chance

Arb! he puffed, not meaning to shorten her name (Grandmother always said that it was rude not to use someone's full name!), his ribs undulating with frenzied breath after breath, but he was smiling at the sight of her and aside from being a little tense, a little more ragged, his spirit was undimmed. Sorry, I, I went looking further afield, he had to stop and take a few deep breaths before he could continue his explanation. The wound on his hip was pretty deep and seemed to have started leaking fluids now that he was stationary, streaking his brown coat with a rusty red. I was hunting! Not much is out there, and its getting colder, but... I found a trail! I followed it for a day, but I wasn't the only thing tracking food.

The smile faltered from his face. The glimmer of mirth and good cheer for having company again, friendly canine company, became something more tumultuous as he recalled the event. So, I had been following this trail a while, and it seemed stronger by a little pond -- so I stopped there for a bit. Had a drink, checked for fish -- started off again, but there was a big thing! I mean, it wasn't a wolf, and it wasn't food, but it was bleeding and it was big, and it came after me! He went a little bit manic as he explained this and his eyes, usually drooping and sleepy looking, were wide and bright. It shrieked at me! And then it tried to grab me, but maybe it was too starved, because I made a daring escape. I only worry that I brought it trailing back here. So I... I took an extra day or two and went the other way. Just in case. I'm sorry!

The mania petered out as he deflated, emphatic even in his movements as he puddled before her.