Silver Creek through the streets and column cracks

The water lured her from cover, and as she plodded towards it her head was low, nose pressed against clusters of grass or fern or dirt, investigating every inch. The novelty of being without a master had worn off days ago. Now, with a nagging hunger to perpetuate the sense of otherness she was experiencing, Blackheart knew something had to change.

She sought the water without paying enough attention to her periphery, so when she arrived at the flowing edge and began to greedily lap at it, her focus was limited by her tunnel vision. Water dripped from her snout as she raised her head after, contented, she noticed she was not alone. Her triangular ears shifted slightly, her expression alert, and her tail whipped at the grass.

A little boof broke the stillness in the air, as if she needed to garner the stranger's attention; Blackheart hadn't seen any dogs or really anything besides the occasional bird for a while, so to suddenly find a wiry-looking dog here, lost as she was, was more unnerving than comforting.