Whitebark Stream time don’t make it better

well. . .close. but the little one latched onto the word, offering it as a tentative response while toddling into the brush. okay, surya responded with a chuckle, rising slowly to his paws and following at a respectful distance. he wasn't sure if the boy was trying to lead him somewhere or trying to get away from him.

at any rate, he was too tall and the foliage too thick to get far. chubu, he parroted, sticking his head into the greenery. he peered down at the pup, looking wry. i'm too big, yaar. i'll get stuck if i follow you. he hoped that the boy would emerge again. were those thorns he spotted. . .?