Big Salmon Lake And the grass all smells the same

@Needle

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Stark lay sprawled beneath the shade of a twisted old tree, his body stretched out over the cool earth, enjoying a rare moment of rest. The dappled sunlight warmed his thick fur, and for once, he let himself drift, surrendering to the quiet around him. His breaths came slow and steady, muscles relaxing into the ground as he allowed his senses to dull.

But his nap didn’t last long. Slowly, his eyes blinked open, sleep falling away with an agitated huff. Tongue lapping at his own jaws and lips, he noted the distinct cottonmouth he'd developed. He shook the stiffness from his limbs before padding over to the large, looming lake that centered within his vision. His descent down the hill was slow and tedious, paws scraping at the soft ground.

The lake's water was cold and clear, and the pale wolf lapped it up eagerly. Cupping large mouthfuls of the crystal-clear water down his throat, and he only stopped when he was satisfied with a gut full of it. He let himself settle into a seated position, head tilting backwards to enjoy the feel of the sun upon his fur—until the faint rustle of movement caught his ears. His peace was swiftly disturbed.

Stark’s head snapped up, his good eye narrowing. “I know you’re there. Come out. Now.”