Whitebark Stream tastes just like pepsi cola

the boy's stoicism takes her aback, a moment. she settles opposite him, flexing the hurting limb experimentally. she considers a moment, not yet willing to admit defeat. "maybe not as good as squirrels," she concedes, peering over the boy's shoulder as sway of foliage attracts her attention. 

"is toshi with you?" she'd had fun with the darker furred boy at the pond in the maplewood not long ago, though she's not seen him since. "I haven't seen 'm much,"