Whitebark Stream We dream the same every night.

Made eager by his father's announcement of adventure, Winter was keen to remain several steps ahead of his littermates. Too energetic to maintain the easy pace set by their patriarch to accommodate the group as a whole, the firstborn bounded forward - quicker at the sound of flowing water - until Отец barked after him in request that he wait.

The boy stopped, and grumbled to himself in frustration. He twitched his nose and turned to face his family, brow furrowed impatiently. No further comment was made on the matter, but Winter was sure to stay up front.

He took in the scene before him with blue eyes made wide by wonder, a gaze that swept across the rippling surface of their stream and the soft sway of lush grasses. Beyond, the white-barked trees stood tall and proud, and he couldn't help but consider what curiosities lurked on the other side.

His father shared the dangers of the current, and Winter regarded his words with an uninterested flick of an obsidian lobe. What really drew his attention toward him, however, was when water droplets rained suddenly down over him. "Привет!" Winter countered, leaping forth across the stones after Juniper to enter the shallows alongside her. Watching her failed attempt at mimicking their father, he adopted a new strategy by rearing up and crashing his paws down into the water - enough to soak himself and likely to poor siblings around him.