Swiftcurrent Creek Can't forget your style or your cynicism

Foxglove shook her coat out as she recovered from her sneezing fit. She gave no indication that she'd heard the man at first, moving to march past in a random direction, until she corrected him airily: No, we call her mama.

She'd learned that lesson too well to be tricked by a friend as new as him! Mama's this way, Foxglove added confidently, looking over her shoulder to see if the man was following. Which meant that she wasn't looking at where she was going. So maybe she was the only one who was surprised when she tripped over some unseen object in the mud and fell, twisting magnificently on the way down as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

The end result: a mud-soaked, crying puppy.