Big Salmon Lake Shinkō

Another blessed day, the dog said. Shiranui turned his gaze toward the figure of the man, eyeing his shape and his form. He wondered how the preacher listened so with such floppy ears. They shaped his face well, offering him a handsomeness that was foreign to the wild hunter.

Shiranui waved his tail gently in response to the man’s words. Hunger was universal. They would share the burden of their stomach pangs. The white wolf could hunt for two.

Ruby eyes scanned the distant fields. The wolf knew that he could fish in the waters, but it would take a good deal of time to catch what they needed to ease the hunger. Shiranui sniffed at the light wind, hungrily drinking in the aromas it carried. On that breeze, he could smell otter. Blessed, indeed.

Shiranui nudged the dog with his snout and began to trot around the edge of the lake. He hunted for signs of the otters, hoping they were near.