good intentions

Theory spent plenty of time at the rapids when she wasn't haunting the Abaven territories. They had once been home and if you were familiar with the scent of the pack traces of their occupancy were still evident. She liked to think that they were recovering. Although the rapids had been blocked further upstream after the volcano, it seemed that the water had done its work and found some way around or through the landslide and ash. It wasn't clean water, sure, but at least it flowed again. The young alpha wrinkled her nose at the soot and particles carried on the current. She'd have to warn the younger members of the pack not to drink here and be more careful when they swim. Some of the pups had never seen the rapids at their strongest and would be overtaken immediately by the current.

She noticed some unfamiliar prints and scents as she strolled along the course of the water. Putting her nose to work, Theo tracked the scent until she saw a small, hunched shape. Was it a fox...? As she drew closer, Theo realized it wasn't a denizen of the woods at all: it was a pitiful looking puppy. Furrowing her brows, she approached slowly. "Are you lost?" she asked once she was within earshot. He was little, younger than most of Abaven's brood. The past few months had put her on a crash-course of puppy caretaking and she liked to think that was quite good at it, but she still fumbled occasionally. Hey, no one was perfect.