Big Salmon Lake And the grass all smells the same

There was only the slightest glimmer of surprise upon Stark's jagged face when the gangly yearling came waltzing from her hiding place within the brush. He offered her the faintest curl of his lip, a gnarled and displeased grimace that spoke volumes to how he was feeling. Her words left lashings upon his ego, and he responded with a stiff growl. He couldn't believe—no, couldn't fathom—that he hadn't noticed her following him.

It had been days since their encounter. He had left her sniveling, while he emerged victorious. Ah, he sounded like a fool. Letting a pup step all over him. "Don't get used to it, gosling." If she were going to be stalking him, they may as well get acquainted. He thought gosling a fitting nickname. It was cute, and he was getting the idea that this girl didn't like cute.

He stepped away from the lake's edge, the pebbles and sand that scattered the bank skittering away from his lumbering paw steps. His head lowered and his yellow eye narrowed, squinted, as he made to get a better look at the kid.

He snorted. "Nowhere." He replied, his tongue rasping across his maw. "I'm sight-seeing. Not that it's any of your concern." His nose snarled up in momentary disdain. He didn't want her tailing him around like a lost puppy. If her parents abandoned her, that was no problem of his own. He wasn't going to play daddy.

"Scurry along."