Mudminnow River so far away

a low chuff reels him from his mind, causes his head to lift, his neck stiff. one ear planes backward, before he's pivoting on heavy paws to stare at the man. "hm," he grunted, not unfriendly but not warm, either. "guess you could say that." he rumbled.

he took a seat at the waters edge, though this time, he refused to stare at his reflection. "don't know what i'm lookin' for, no more." tinged with a hint of sorrow, perhaps with anger, too. he felt like a shell, a husk. what good is he anymore, in a land so unfamiliar, and with no gang running beside him?

his steels himself then, the mask sliding back into place. "these your lands?"