Whitefish River Paranormal whacktivity

No reply came, not that that surprised Peregrine in the least. He snorted, causing the fog to whorl right in front of his face. He went cross-eyed staring at it, then refocused and stared unseeingly into the mist as he heard the younger wolf moving around out there. He ran his tongue over his teeth, then pressed them lightly into his tongue to discourage himself from saying anything else.

Two could play at this game and it wasn't like Peregrine had anything better to do. He didn't want to sit here, bored out of his mind, waiting for the sun to burn off the fog. Instead, he slid forward into the chilly water and began to flail his legs and make struggling noises. Surely he sounded like a drowning victim.