Put The Gun Down

There was some risk in traveling so close to water this time of year, but at least with moving water, snowmelt was slightly more likely than the formation of ice. Of course, it left the ground muddy and her feet unsightly, but Hayai much preferred a bit of grime than to dragging herself through potentially layers of snow on solid ground. She trotted easily along the riverbank, happy to feel her limbs able to move freely, kicking her paws high as her tail swayed behind her in much the same way the fish swam alongside her in the water. Rusty ears swiveled about for any signs of company, but there was little about her to suggest she was on edge about the possibility. Company, she thought, might even be quite nice.

She tilted her head toward the water, watching the refracted figure of a fish pass her by. Tongue lashed out over liver, her nose twitching and maw salivating a little at the thought of fresh, cold seafood. But it was too risky. Maybe wherever this ends, I'll find a shallow end, she mused. Out here, the current was too swift and too cold; it would surely be a deathtrap. But farther south, there was a chance of finding a pool of water...and a shoreline.

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