Whitefish River she fears I'll be a servant to my history

"Look what you did!" Q exclaimed when Cleo hastily excused herself and ran way. She shook her head, watching until the other girl disappeared into the distance. "Hasta la vista, Cleo!" she thought to shout only belatedly, wondering whether Cleo would even hear.

"So you're telling me," Quell said in the next breath, pivoting on a black heel and striding back toward the river, "you didn't hatch from an egg?" She snorted as if that was absurd, Frolic tittering lowly in her ear as he loosened his grasp and shimmied down her leg even as she walked. He bounded ahead to the water's edge and dove headfirst onto the ice, sliding across it before abruptly disappearing into a hole.

As soon as she hit the shoreline, the adolescent made a perpendicular turn and began to trot further south, keeping her senses peeled once more for any signs of large game. Phox had said they were returning and Cleo had corroborated his story, yet Quell needed to see with her own two eyes.