Sunset Valley A Walk Through the Woods

A disgruntled huff escaped Tahoe's jowls. The male had been meandering for days. Nettles and bracken clung persistently to his undersides, evident of his passage through a heavily wooded area. He'd made it a good distance into the woodland before growing frustrated by the bothersome terrain. Turning back was not an option for Tahoe, he'd already made it past the point of return. So, the headstrong brute defiantly trudged his way out, uttering curses as he did so. After a laborious trek, the end of the tumultuous sea of vegetation was within sight.

 At last, he had escaped the clutches of the vexing, prickly bushes. Compared to the previous landscape, the undergrowth to come appeared almost welcoming. He lumbered along, listening to the monotonous rhythm of his own footfalls. The gentle ambience of distant birdsong and the whispering of the breeze provided him a taste of serenity as he went. Definitely, this place was much more navigable. Up ahead, the lackluster gleam of a muddied puddle caught his eye. Tahoe drew near, poising his rhinarium above the water's surface as he gave the liquid a cautious sniff. He curtly quenched his thirst upon deeming there were no foul substances intermittent within.