Whitebark Stream We dream the same every night.

she remains, uncharacteristically, in the near vicinity of her father as the group makes their way through the territory. it most certainly has something to do with her mother's reaction to her most recent disappearing act, though how long the effects of her reprimand will last is yet to be seen. 

the whisper of water is inviting, especially as the sun bears down hotly on her back, though her father's voice demands attention before she makes for the shallows. his splash is met first with a gasp, and then a charge toward the water. "gonna get you!" she promises, splashing into the shallows. it is the tug of the water around her paws, however slight, the gives her pause, and has her maw round into a soft "o". "d' water's going, da!" she has no way to accurately describe the odd tug, and so instead attempts the same motion as her father. but she's underestimated the strength of motion she'd need (her father had made it look so easy!) and so she only managed a pitful arch of water that is nowhere near enough to splash her father, let alone any of her siblings.