451 words
Gotham was starting to get very big and strong, indeed. Just the other day he had caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror at the mansion, and he found himself to be a rather handsome beast! He was almost nine months old, now, and was starting to become interested in things he hadn't cared much for as a puppy. The boy was pleased that he had such nice sleek black fur, no doubt inherited from his mother, and such blue eyes. He had previously lamented his bright eyes, as they seemed to hinder his ability to hide in a game of hide and seek, but now he found them rather charming. When he walked, he puffed out his chest and kept his head high, imagining himself one of the princes or knights of the story books he had read with his father. Gotham tried to act as princelike as he could, because, like them, he wanted to acquire a princess. And, he knew from the books, brave princes never failed in finding a beautiful princess!
The youngster was strolling through a field and bewailing the lack of dragonflies or any sort of bug when, to his immense surprise, someone else flew past him. He stopped his romping all of a sudden, and merely peered at where the speedy wolf was off to. After a moment, he decided it would be good fun to go after her, and he took off. He was no match for her speed, but he kept her in view and followed her into a forest, where a creek wound between their legs and drew them deeper. He couldn't see her after only a few steps into the thick forest, and he slowed down, panting heavily. Following the winding water, he made his way deeper and deeper, assuming that the other wolf would likely follow the clearing as well. He was bored of roaming by himself, and would be quite glad to have some company.
The creek led to a lake, and as Gotham approached he was filled with a sense of awe. It seemed to glow and sparkle in the sunlight that filtered down to it, so bright compared to the depths of the forest he had just travelled through. The wolf that had ran past him was standing on the lake, and, quietly, Gotham slipped onto the edge of the lake. "Hello, miss!" he called out boldly, before walking carefully towards her, watching the fish beneath the ice as they swelled away from him with every pawstep he took. Occasionally he would slip a little, but he tried to catch himself and cause as little disturbance as possible. He had to make a good impression!