Redhawk Caldera Her early leaf's a flower

He'd never thought of that, but he supposed that it made sense, if a ghost didn't age past the point where it'd been created. "If I get to be old, creaky, stinky and old," He said, "And then I start trying to boss ghost-Ceridwen around, everybody here's gonna start thinking I'm SUPER crazy and they're gonna stick me on the island, in the middle of the lake, so they don't hafta listen to me." He said. Truth be told, he liked the idea of being able to talk out-loud to a ghost, regardless of whether the ghost actually listened to him. 

He waited until she caught up, tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth. His tail wagged eagerly as he took a step closer to the lake, peering over toward the ledge that hung out over the cool water, like a natural diving-board that would let him fall through a couple feet of air before hitting the water, where it was deep, dark blue. 

He snorted. "'Course I can swim," He said. "My Mom's the best fisher in the pack. If there's a big fish in there big enough to eat me...She woulda caught it." He said with a shrug. He grinned. "Maybe I'll catch it when I'm in the water and bring it back for dinner," He said with a toothy, hungry growl.