Swiftcurrent Creek our season

His muzzle had enclosed around and old elk bone, and his black gums were curled upward as his molars took hold of the calcified matter. With a resounding crack, the femur split, and the brute's rough tongue soothed away the marrow that had remained locked inside. Finishing the inner casing of the bone, Dovev left the shattered halves to lay desolately in the cool grass.

The quiet surge of water against the pebbly bank reached his ears as Dovev walked towards it; his legs pushing the tall river grasses away from his step. On the opposite side of the creek lay a grass slope steadily rising upwards. The wafting scent of his new pack teased his nostrils, but already the aroma was tinged with disbelief. Two days in, and Dovev had already learned of an undertone of conviction and scandal within the pack. He started into the stream.

The white figurine stood out against the backdrop of trees and blue sky, a cloud on a dark blue field. He drew closer to the alphess, the controversy seeming to flow from her. But the canid kept a calm and endearing face as he padded forward, his gray eyes a smooth plane as he leaned forward to brush his shoulder against her's. He made an exaggerated motion to touch his nose under her chin, his lips twitching, before stepping back.
Good morning.