Whitefish River With each sunrise brings a new adventure

The morning light of the sun gradually broke through the shifting clouds above, its presence a welcoming one to those that felt its warmth whilst travelling the lands below - roaming within the growing chill of the encrouching winter. The air was brisk and charcoal fur bristled along the roaming canine's back as he began to make his way up river - leaving the great lake behind. 

Flint's walk was a slow and casual one as he listened to the sound of the flowing water beside him, along with the songs of the morning birds that were nestled in the nearby trees as he passed. His sore paws continued to guide him up North and even though his body still ached from his previous travels, Flint stubbornly pushed on regardless - an eager spirit too impatient to wait for adventure.

The young mutt didn't know how long nor how far he'd ventured beyond the great lake, but knew that its vast waters were out of sight by now. And with curiosity, he turned to cast his gaze down the route he had taken, only to see the countless bends and turns of the river behind. His good ear twitched as he gawked at the distance briefly, an unkempt tail swaying idly in the morning breeze that swept through the flat lands.