Word count: 134
Yes, what if she slips! The gray wolf's eyes darted around for a solution. They stopped on a fallen branch and Kuru pricked his ears. "We can bite each end of this," he replied, trotting to the wood. "If you fall, hold onto the stick and I will help you up."
Kuru's tongue lolled as he considered his plan. Images ran, in rapid succession, of the white stranger's head going under the water. Visions of her being carried beyond his reach left him tense. A sharp cold in his paws brought Kuru back to the present; he was curling his claws, instinctively, into the hard earth.
His dark shoulders sagged, ears drooping. "Never mind. It's a bad plan," he whined. "What do you think we should do?" he called to the living ghost across the stream.
"Speech" Thought