Serpent Lake (M) Two straws, one check, girl, I got you.

unaware of the bristling exchange taking place just north of him, soto watches a heron stalk the shallows. they lived strange lives, these thin birds with knifelike beaks. anything they came across was a prospective meal; ducklings, frogs, fish, young kits or beavers -- he watches as a mob of otters haze the slender bird until it takes ungainly wing to the skies.

deciding to see if any game visited the waterway north of him, soto lopes north. the desert is a pale smudge of distance behind him: here the spring is in full swing and everything a different, dazzling shade of green.

wind lifts his fur in playful riffs. scents of meadowgrass and creekwater indulge his senses, but he pauses as something more familiar thumbs his way into his consciousness. the amazon -- had she returned?