Otter Creek Don't really care what they would say, I'm asking you to stay

Stark shifted atop the sun-warmed boulders, the heat seeping through his thick fur, a rare indulgence in his otherwise relentless existence. His single eye cracked open, narrowing against the sunlight as the sound of paws crunching over pebbles reached his ears. The fast, purposeful rhythm drew his attention, and he stretched lazily before sitting up, his powerful frame silhouetted against the jagged spires beyond.

Below him, a bright-furred wolf darted along the creek’s edge, nose to the ground, moving with a restless determination. Stark tilted his head slightly, studying the stranger with mild curiosity. Whoever they were, they looked like they were chasing ghosts.

“Lose something?” Stark called down, his voice sharp and dry, carrying easily over the gentle burble of the creek. He cracked a wry smirk, readjusting his stature to lean closer to the edge of his sunning rock. "Lose someone?" He swiped his nose over his scarred maw, his yellow eye glinting in the sunlight. “Or are you just practicing your sniffing skills? I’d give it a six out of ten, at best.”

His tone was mocking but lacked any true malice, more a way of entertaining himself than anything else. With @Needle gone for the moment, off doing whatever pups did when they were without adult supervision, he was rather... bored.

That wasn't to say he missed the nuisance. No, no.