Otter Creek songbird

Emilio's wanderings had no particular logic to them. Some mornings, he simply picked a direction and walked a way until he found something interesting - or got bored. And that wasn't a difficult feat to achieve.

Today had him skirting a rather creepy looking forest until an icy creek led him to the foothills of the mountains. They were different from the heights back home, but what was home now anyway? Whatever sentimental feelings may have arisen were lost on the boy.

He would have thought the stranger dead had it not been for the gentle rise and fall of her flank - well, now this was something interesting. Steps tentative with uncharacteristic reserve, he called out from across the river. "¿Hola?"