Word Count » 324
The water was cold, despite the season and blazing sun that glittered off the gentle current. It dragged around the coyote-boy’s stomach, tugging wistfully at the ginger-white fur that hung shortly clipped there. He took his steps carefully, the soft muddy bottom feeling foreign against his paws. Citlali couldn’t risk falling in before the others. Suddenly, the icy liquid crept closer to his neck and clung to the bottom of his obsidian feather. The boy kept his dull gaze down on the blue space but occasionally glanced up to check the distance. He had fallen behind purposely, well aware that he had the right to travel before the others. However, the safety of his pack came first, along with the dry throb of nervousness that pulsed adrenaline through his veins.
Before the water reached his collar, Citlali began kicking, moving through the river easily. He finally looked up, seeing his Auxiliary surveying the area and pacing impatiently. The Kimaris swam harder, his feet touching the murky bank before he even began panting. As soon as he was back on land, Citlali joined the others, leaving his sand-toned pelt dripping in respect for the other explorers. Pink tongue flicked out momentarily to grab a drop a droplet of moisture on his muzzle. As if in response, Eris asked about their current state, a flicker of humor etched in her voice when she claimed the obvious. Her tone went to a more serious one when she spoke their purpose. The boy dared a slight smile, making eye contact with sun-yellow irises for a moment. He hoped she wouldn’t mind his presence.
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