Mudminnow River hard to love

he kept one ear turned toward the raccoon that scavenged along the opposite bank, so he might know if the creature found something of interest. he doubted that it searched for herbs, though he knew little of their ways, languages and intelligence. the masked forager dug in the supple earth, turning it over and over until it unearthed a long, slimy nightcrawler. the wolf glanced over, envious, but continued on and left the raccoon’s slurping noises behind.

he flinched and crouched among the reeds when he heard paw steps approaching, hoping perhaps he might have gone unnoticed. his tracks would betray his presence, he knew- but so heavily laden with rainwater and the scent of wet earth, he thought he might have a chance at remaining undetected.

he was wrong.

the raccoon stood up, gazing toward where he assumed the approaching creature was, before it uttered a snort and retreated hastily into the tall grass. he panned his ears, noting the sound of the other creature’s paw steps- noisy, bounds and leaps and small steps. a child perhaps? but where there were children, there might also be adults. 

what approached him was not…exactly a child, though her size made him do a double-take. there was indeed something very childlike about her, but it was her coat, her tail, the ridge of her brow that made her unique. 

he didn’t know what she was- and immediately began to backpedal when she approached him regardless of the fact that she was brimming with friendliness.

she wasn’t a friend to him; he didn’t have any friends. lips pressed together in concern, ears flattened and tail tucked, he turned and began to trot away, glancing back with a whale-eyed expression to see if he’d need to hasten his pace- or if she’d just let him go.