Duck Lake Around the mulberry bush

Inkeri grasped the nearest large branch and drug it to the edge of the water's edge. It was icy and cold. her breath leaving frost trails in it's wake. She leaned the log against the rock and pushed, with her head and paws. It landed into the water and ice with a loud crack. And water burst up like a geyser.

The droplets stole her breath as their cold landed on her face and eyelashes. She batted a paw towards the ice pieces moving them from side to side. Leaving a hissing noise in it's wake, as the ice burned her paws.

She watched with clear eyes, waiting. A fish would need to surface eventually. And that was a quick meal.

The geyser of erupting water shot quite high in that moment. Hidden along a snowbank was an equally pale young man, and when the stillness of the day was disrupted in this manner, he came running to the edge of the lake.

He saw the duo-tone stranger and the jutting branch, both earning a quizzical look. As he came striding closer there came the sound of crushing snow, and the call of his baritone, Hey! How'd you do that?

Was she a witch? Maybe she had commanded a tree to fall! Maybe she was stronger than she looked? Nah, that couldn't be it.

Inkeri had not realized that her wolfish engineering would earn her an audience. So she was not looking for anyone to show up. She was laser focused on the water and the fish that swam beneath.

But she was startled, clear in her wide pupils and how she almost shrunk. But she stopped herself just in time. Keeping her paws firm and not leaning down, down belly to the ground. She did not need to grovel anymore. She was free.

I used branch. Branch. Pick it up with my teeth. Teeth. Fishing. Fishing. She winced at her echoed voice. As always she had carried this abuse and this trauma and it manifested itself into this cringey creature and parroting tick.