Lake Rodney A journey (a decision)

There was a voice. Crowfeather’s ears swung back on his narrow head to the shore where a woman had called out in greeting. Having lost all focus on his swimming, the dark wolf gulped down several mouths of water and choked it back up in surprise.

Paddling pathetically, the dark wolf turned around. His legs churned until he found the footing of the shore. Crowfeather’s heartbeat in his chest painfully. He choked again and spit up into the water with an unappetizing hyuck sound.

When he had slowly moved back to where the water did not overwhelm him, Crowfeather looked to see the creamy slate coat of the girl from the morass. She had helped him leave gifts behind for his loved ones.

It’s you, the dark wolf said, tail wavering and splashing water.