Seeking The Way
Big dog had traveled for nine days already, heading relentlessly south west. He knew only that home lay in that direction, and that he must go on. Rivers would not stop him, nor roads, or mountains. People were a danger, always, especially the ones that meant well and wanted to love and care for him. That could be a prison and he needed to be free.
He paused at the stream and drank his full, his front feet in the water. Refreshed, he went back to the path, skirting the village before dawn. No one saw him pass.