Duck Lake the grass is growing on top of my feet

Cole moved with a steady purpose, his paws crunching softly against the frozen earth as he wound through the territory. The patrol was second nature by now, a rhythm he fell into with ease. He had a knack for knowing where the subtle changes in the land occurred, where trails crossed, and which areas needed the sharp eye of a guard.

The lake was one of his favorite stops along the way. Even in the stark winter, it offered a kind of tranquility that felt removed from the weight of his duties. The icy sheen glinted under the pale sunlight, and the surrounding stillness made it seem untouched by time.

But today, something new lingered on the air—a faint, youthful scent carried on the cold breeze. His ears flicked forward, the sharpness of his senses attuned to the unfamiliar presence. A young girl. Alone, by the smell of it.

His muscles tensed slightly, and his stride quickened as he followed the trail, his nose low to the ground. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of her—a small figure against the backdrop of the frozen lake. She moved with a quiet curiosity, her gaze intent on something unseen.

Cole cleared his throat softly, stepping into view.