Swiftcurrent Creek and it's all because of you

good to fade here!

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smoke stepped in close long enough to drop the squirrel into the cache, nosing dirt back over it with a practiced shove. clean. done. he straightened and dusted his muzzle once with his foreleg.

at her words, he dipped his head in a short nod.

got it, he rumbled.

then he turned without ceremony and headed off toward the wetlands, broad frame slipping into the trees. tail low. pace steady. already working the edges in his head as he went, ready to lay scent where the water tried its hardest to steal it away.

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