Duskfire Glacier I don't know, man.

Currituck doesn’t notice the start of the other, hopping and skipping along until she’s close enough to even thinking about putting on the brakes. Her paws struggle to slow down enough and she crashes into the large wolf’s chest, a giggle slipping playfully out of her muzzle. When she’s able to get her feet under control, they split out beneath her and she stumbles to the ground, rolling over and peering longingly at the woman.
 
“What’cha doin’?” she asks, pawing at the air between them.