After what felt like years of traveling (and she knew it wasn’t, truly, but you couldn’t blame a girl for a bit of drama here and there), the fledging scout found herself at the banks of a river. It was moving swiftly, fed by recent snow and the day’s rain, but it seemed to do little to deter the young female as she waded in. Stocky legs sunk down into the sandy bottom, but the cold water barely even nipped at her belly until she moved into the center of the flow. Plunging her muddy muzzle into the water, she exhaled deeply before sucking water in through her mouth, taking several long, cool gulps.
While this was satisfying, the sow found little reason to leave the stream just yet. The weather had turned quite cold, and several invertebrates had burrowed under the stream’s bed. Shoving her shovel-like snout back under the water, she forced it further under the gravel, rooting around for any tasty treats she could find hidden underneath the river. That the water flowed murky and dark behind her meant nothing to the sow, for none of her siblings and cousins were here. This river was all hers for the taking, food and water both, and there was little anything could do to stop her.