Swiftcurrent Creek ghost under rocks

A pale woman approached from the Creek. Her soft and kind expression juxtaposed her poppy-colored eyes and tattered pelt. Shadowpup’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, never having seen such profuse scaring before. It reminded her of injured Bonario. Maybe this woman had done bad things, like the man she had met.

Her weight leaned back, but the pup held her ground.

Lost?

Shadowpup looked over her shoulder to see if there was anyone else who might fit that description.

Oh, she’s talking to me, Shadowpup realized.

“No.” The girl said pointedly and in a rude voice.

“It’s my Tia Plata who is lost. She hasn’t come home… have you seen her? I know she visits here often.” Shadowpup was certain the Creek wolves knew her whereabouts.