Silver Creek Making my own Way

The sunlight filtered through the woodlands, lighting the overhead boughs ablaze and carving out shadows on the forest floor. Running water and buzzing insects droned in his ears. Nose wrinkling, a grimace formed as he snapped at the flies that dared flit about his face. If he had known that he would be harassed by the most annoying life forms he'd have never come to the Teekons. Perhaps the saving grace was how sparsely populated this portion of the lands were. Plenty enough to eat and watering holes could be private excursions.

The water source came into view and he'd bite his own tongue. By the creek bed was a steely little thing. His eyes would narrow as the corners of his mouth drew into a taut line. His stride slowed, altering his path to keep with the shadows. Slowly drawing himself parallel to the smaller wolf, a healthy distance between them.

He could just as easily keep walking. Ignore the little thing and move to a different bend in the creek. But why should he? Water was universal. And the lands were unclaimed by all that his nose told him. They both had rights to be here. Stopping to idle, he barked once. He was here, and she would know. And if they both played nice, they wouldn't have to care for more than a few minutes, as far as he was concerned.