There was something simple, something comforting, about not using the brain. To subsume all the complicated thoughts of history and religion and just exist in the moment. To abandon the grand plan for a few minutes, to just do.

Or so people had told Bull Rush. He however, never let go of the grand plan. And while picking up trash along the river, he thought and planned for the future. The future of his pack. He was would be done, and they were his instruments, his family. The grand plan must be obeyed. Stab, pick up, place in trash bag. After all, no one else would do it if he didn't. He had to make his pack strong, strong enough to face any problem, from any angle. Pick up tire, carry over shoulder. Starseeker was realizing his role, he was adapting, growing, getting smarter. He had all the right ideas. Chantay was smart too, focused, and tenacious. His pack wasn't the strongest, but it was the smartest. Of that he would bet his life. And he wouldn't want it any other way.