Big Salmon Lake Ordinary people, who make themselves extraordinary

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The route Bronco normally took for his patrol often took him on a detour toward the lake which he could see shimmering in the distance. While the water that flowed through the ravine in the Glen was fresh and cool, it was almost too cold- considering the fact that it came from the mountains. He, oddly enuogh, preferred the taste of standing water- perhaps something of a taste he'd acquired living in the Copse, which was sandwiched between a bog and a swamp. He also liked to visit the area where the river flowed from the north and met the lake, where the salmon often collected in the shallower water there- they too were delicious.

So when he caught Wraen's tracks leading from the forest to the lake he picked up his pace, and from a distance, he could spot her form on the ground at the lake's edge. He immediately emitted a low, rumbling and happy greeting- a sort of “Roo-roo-roo” with which a canine would greet their favourite human, after they'd been away for too long. His tail swung from side to side in low, heavy arcs as he approached, reaching forward to nuzzle her cheek as he flopped down onto the ground close by her side. He overlooked her tiredness, at least at first, given how pleased he was to see her again. For some reason, he'd been harbouring a sort of dread that it might be a while before he saw her again- so it came to him as an immense relief to find her so near his pack, and both alive and well.