Whitebark Stream tastes just like pepsi cola

she wavered, trying not to lean into the feedback loop that consisted of the branch and herself. it had taken her much of the morning, but she'd managed to scrabble atop a low-hanging branch not far from the rendezvous. her pawpads were scrapped and one contained a nasty splinter that throbbed continuously (if she'd not become accustomed to such little hurts recently, it might have been an end to the whole ordeal).

but there she lay, triumphant as she straddled the branch awkwardly. she was aware that she was beginning to lean rather heavily to one side, and the wobbling meant she was sinking closer and closer to the earth, and yet stubbornly did she hold on, determined to absorb as much of this victory as possible.

Kiyoshi watched the other pup from his place in the shade. The burly young boy had found some interest in the view – she had been attempting to scramble onto the low branch for a short while. Never having felt the need to scale a tree, the Draconid child wondered what had compelled the stranger into such an action. The branch seemed to bob with her weight before dipping toward the ground and then springing slightly back up.
 
The stone-faced child drew his pink tongue along his muzzle but said nothing. Kiyoshi knew better than to disrupt the concentration that was at play. The Draconid boy would wait until she succeeded in scaling the branch, or it toppled her back to the ground.

her sliding was something not easily correctible, no matter her fumbling attempts to right herself. a moment, too, and the pup dropped to the earth with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. sharp yelp as she landed crookedly on a hind paw, fully prepared to call out again when she notices the other pup. 

hurts forgotten in the face of a new playmate, the girl rights herself, giving her pelt a stiff shake. "t-kiyoshi!" she calls, gaze falling on the bright flash of fur on the boy's forehead she uses to remember. "watcha doin'?" she calls, closing the distance with a bit of an awkward limp that is already fading; she's gotten enough hurts from doing things she shouldn't be to have become resilient.

The young boy did not miss her almost misspoken greeting. It had not been the first time that he had been mistaken for his brother, but Kiyoshi did not understand why it was such a difficult feat to tell the two boys apart. He knew Juniper as a relation to the girl Storm Whitebark. As such, he imagined that the girl who was wrestling the tree branch shared the same last name.
 
“Juniper Whitebark,” the boy deadpanned. His large puppy head nodded respectfully, as he had been shown by his mother.
 
The girl approached him with a slight limp to her step. Kiyoshi watched her favored limb with an intent stare. “Wolves cannot climb trees, Juniper,” the boy told her in a matter-of-fact tone. It was not intended to be an insult to the pale-cloaked girl. He simply wasn’t sure if she knew. The words were difficult on his young tongue, but he managed well enough.

the boy's stoicism takes her aback, a moment. she settles opposite him, flexing the hurting limb experimentally. she considers a moment, not yet willing to admit defeat. "maybe not as good as squirrels," she concedes, peering over the boy's shoulder as sway of foliage attracts her attention. 

"is toshi with you?" she'd had fun with the darker furred boy at the pond in the maplewood not long ago, though she's not seen him since. "I haven't seen 'm much," 

Certainly not as well as squirrels, he wanted to remind her. Wolves did not possess the light frames and capable hands of the smaller prey animals. Kiyoshi had spent more than enough time in the summer sun watching them scurry into the high portions of the trees before disappearing. Though he and his kin were capable beasts, he understood many of their own limitations.
 
“Toshi is not with me,” Kiyoshi answered her.
 
It was not uncommon for his brother to be the preferred companion. Toshi had an adventurous spirit and a tendency to find fun beneath any stone he overturned. Kiyoshi was an observer – at least, at that point in his life.
 
“Are you his friend?”