Otter Creek A machete that cuts my cheek

A youth, not quite a yearling, traveled with a minor limp. His gait had to constantly be corrected, like a grocery cart with a busted wheel. A decent distance from the base of a mountain that soared into the endless blue, Yuda looked both ways only once, yet stayed where he stood for much longer. The male made up of several shades closed his eyes and breathed in deeply and held his breath a few moments.

When his eyelids lifted up, the nearly grown male turned left and began moving at the quick trot he had before. He did not question the direction he chose, nor did he look back towards the forest he could have chosen instead of the unknown area beyond the hook of the grey mass. Yuda never looked back, as it was not in his nature to do so.

It was also not in his nature to be overly curious, if curious at all. The fading ink came around the side of the mountain, and looked around as he kept moving forward. Many territories were looked upon with black eyes that were too old for such a young wolf.

Of all the things he took in, Yuda noticed that a creek was first. The boy nearly walked by, not really caring, but shifted his body so he could drink. He was not aware of when he would happen upon water next, besides the lake his eyes noted in the direction of his trek; but, he did not want to stop at the body of water, he wanted to go around it as quickly as possible before nightfall.