Phantom Hollow Made of gold, I'll never love a

Life was such bullshit, sometimes. He'd found her trail and he'd felt like he found her, but it was still days and days before he even felt close. His wounds from the coastal assholes were scabbed over by now, but it still hurt. Everything still hurt. And his paws were bloody from walking, and his head was swimming with dehydration. Where was a river when he needed it? Why did they only block his path when he was trying to get somewhere?

So he was a little peeved with the world, even when he scent grew strong.

"Reverie, god damn it!" he hollered, his voice hoarse but still plenty loud and forceful. "You'd better get your fluffy ass over here, if you know what's good for you!"