Whitebark Stream now it’s quarter to three

The dramatics did little to sway Kiyoshi. The stone-faced puppy continued to peer at his brother, eyes narrowing at the jutting of his lower lip and the pout that had settled onto his features. No matter how pitiful he made his expression, Toshi would still have a soaked rear. The fumbling of his puppy paws against the wet stone could not be reversed.
 
The challenge, however, seemed to light a fire in Kiyoshi’s gaze. The burly young wolf plodded toward the trickling stream and peered at the steppingstones with an impassive face. “Kiyoshi,” the pup reminded his brother. Yoshi was not his name and Toshi had grown well enough that the full moniker should have been easy enough.
 
With a soft grunt, the pup jumped from the bank onto the nearest stone, wobbling only slightly. His eyes latched onto his sibling expectantly.