Swiftcurrent Creek fue más o menos así

We love a scout.

A bird's nest sat leaning in the crook of a broken branch. Silver scaled fish skimmed just below the surface of the water, using their weight to protect them from the current as they peeked at what might hide inside. Dulce watched the show, figuring to herself that if there was something -- or someone -- inside of the nest, they likely would have long since left, whether willfully or not.

It seemed silly that a pack might settle beside a body of water as testy as this. It was spring, and most packs were getting ready to welcome at least one new litter; Dulce had never been an Alpha, and much less so, a mother, but she was sure pups rarely made the best of swimmers. As she sat beside the border, watching the creek run from a ways, Dulce wondered if someone might come to serve as company.