Swiftcurrent Creek No one loves the broken one

A howl, long and mournful.

Now, he wasn't some sort of wilderness beast like most coyotes or wolves but he understood the language. Such a sound wasn't the norm. He almost dared to say it sounded like a death rattle — or perhaps he simply felt that touched by the sadness.

So he poked and prodded around until he saw a figure. Pale and lone. Sure looked awful somber like that. Moonlight by the creek, he might have found her pretty but that sure was a misplaced thought when somebody was suffering.

Ya all right?

Usually peppy features tugged down, as he offered her a bit of space in these trying times.