Whitefish River Afraid of the Empty but Too Safe on the Shore

Open to all, but hoping to encounter some Kastleoki packmates this dude hasn't stumbled upon yet:)

Dante likes it here, he's pretty sure. 

It's something about the presence of the river, he thinks, that keeps him feeling so steadfastly grounded here. There's an aspect to the swell of the water that calms him, perhaps a leftover comfort from his innisfree days; the ghost of the shore-infatuated pup he was once was always seems to pop up right when he feels as though he's truly forgotten about that young boy. He's grateful, though, for the reminder. It really does push him to center himself on the days where he still feels a bit lost- that is, when Lumiya hasn't gotten to him yet. Dante's learned that the soft flutter of her breath and gentle lilt of her voice in his ear are enough most mornings to pull him from whatever gloom might try to settle in his bones. Love's a powerful thing, innit?

Today though, the young man's silver companion is not by his side. Instead, the little mouse find himself deep into the northern side of the (still mostly unfamiliar) territory, padding along the riverside. He's not so far away from the shore that the bubble of the river is unheard, but distanced enough that the cool mud of the bank doesn't quite reach where he meanders daintily along. There's a gentle hum in the boy's the throat, a trill of a song accompanying him on his stroll, the forest otherwise seemingly still. He thinks it's something he heard Lumiya cooing once, the song, but he's got the notes a bit wrong- it soothes him anyway. The tug of the breeze in his coat draws his attention up towards the sky, overcast but not exactly dreary, and he smiles gently before a new awareness of the sounds- or rather lack thereof - around him finds Dante quickly snapping back to attention. 

His narrow head swivels in the direction of the river, eyes gleaming and a short laugh bursting forth from his maw when he realizes what he's managed to stumble upon. It's nearly hidden by the rugged stone outcrops that make up this part of the territory, but he realizes there's a still pool of water adjacent to the river, heart squeezing in his chest. It's without seoncd thought that Dante is rushing forward, a flash of dove-grey limbs as he barrels towards the water with a hearty laugh resounding from his chest. It's mere seconds before he's reached the edge of the outcrop that borders the pool, and there's a moment after he flings himself into the air - almost as though time has generously slowed for the young man- where he thinks that maybe he's certain he likes it here.