Swiftcurrent Creek One night, a few moons ago

A slow grin traced his muzzle—the pride in her voice not missed, and he was pleased to see she was going to be able to assist Etienne and Arlette in the art of healing, should she be needed. Perhaps, then, the untried border patrol would be something she would be attending more regularly.

“What,” he teased. “Afraid I’ll hurt myself and need to staunch the bleeding fast?” What had she heard about him anyway?

Then again maybe his scars had become more prominent as they began to add up… one by one.

He nudged them toward her, an indication they would be for her stores, before he began to pass by her. It was then his eyes fell upon the sleeping form of little Caliste—in their conversation he had forgotten the little girl had followed him. She was curled up, close to Morwenna. “Besides… I don’t have a den anymore, anyway.”

Leaving it at that—he circled to the other side of the pup. “Guess I better get her back to her mother,” he offered. “Take care, Morwenna,” he rumbled, dipping his muzzle down and scooping up a sleepy girl, who blinked tiredly for only a moment after being disturbed and then promptly fell back asleep.

It wasn’t for Toula or Akashingo they would assist in herding the renegade group. It was for the little lives like this one.