Brevie & Draccan

"Draccan, over here!" Brevie yipped with excitement as she bounded skillfully along the rocky ground. Skillfully until her paw stubbed on a rock, that is; with a yelp of smarting pain and surprising, the adolescent wolf-dog went tumbling head over heals, bouncing and rolling down a steep embankment.

Brevie's uncle gave a sharp bark of alarm when he saw her go crashing along after a missplaced step. Where she was short, squat, and powerfully built, he was long and lean, and a soft gray to her grizzled color. "Bree!" Draccan powered over a few snowdrifts and cleared a small boulder as he scrambled after his niece, fearful that she'd tumble right off one of the many dropoffs in the area.

Fortunately, the hardly yearling came to a stop amid a pile of scree that came cascading down after her, dazed and banged up, but thankfully with nothing broken. "Ohhhh, oww...." A low whine escaped her, sounded more embarrassed than physically hurt. lifting her head unsteadily, Brevie quirked her floppy ears up at her uncle and gave him a bashful, lopsided smile, ",B>...I suppose you saw all of that?"

"I did." Draccan assured with a nervous laugh. His heart was still thumping a mile a minute from the scare, but seeing that she was alright, he padded over to her and gave her an encouraging lick on the head. "Be a little more careful with your steps next time, Bree."