Silvertip Mountain funkier than funkadelic wearing pampers

another wolf arrived as he drank from the icy river. val watched her set down a bundle of moss, his tail easing slow from side to side as she approached.

he'd had enough life experience to assume not every wolf was friendly - but everything about arielle seemed warm and welcoming -- from the way the rich ochre of her pelt tinged red against steely gray, to the way a soft smile lingered across her face. he was immediately smitten.

"hi." val cleared his throat, lifting his muzzle from the stream. "i'm val." he wanted to say something clever to get off on the right foot, some sort of banter to show her he was a cool guy -- but instead, he blurted stupidly: "i hope i won't get a chance to need you."