Whitebark Stream mulberry

Frightened? His lips pulled together and he tilted his head so sharply at the suggestion that one of the caribou flinched, and turned to look in his direction. I'm not frightened, he blurted, though the rush of his words wouldn't make him very convincing. His sentience was slightly latent, and only a moment later he realized, ashamedly, that he still had his shepherd-stare on. His ears flitted back in an apology, and he chuckled softly.

He tilted his head back to where it should be and padded toward her at a smoothe, collie-walk, his eyes just as bright as they had been before, though his tail waved more freely. He glanced toward the caribou, who seemed aware they were now being watch by two, but content to go on with life regardless. I am at peace, mostly, He said with a faint smile. My face just...Looks the way it looks, He said, and shrugged one tight shoulder. He, of course, did not realize that it wasn't just his face that was tense. Such things did not occur to the dog part of him which had no off switch. 

One of the caribou snorted. With a glance, he knew which one it was. That one, he said with a brief jut of his chin, About knocked the wind out of me a couple weeks ago. He said as he sank to the ground beside the chieftan's wife. I think he's got it out for me, Not the words of a peaceful wolf at all, but he smiled hungrily nevertheless. His days are numbered.