Duck Lake karma is the thunder

She eased once more—a laugh and then an offer. He felt the corner of his lips quirk up in a small grin—and to her final question, he gave a nod forward, an ear flicking at the distant rumble of thunder once more. “Not too far from here,” he noted, and picked up his pace, eager to see her out of the storm and ensure his pups were okay.

When they got closer, he cast another sideways glance to her, allowing his form to drift closer to her—a gentle shoulder brush, should she accept it—his scent upon her to deter his pack mates from questioning her presence.