Shepherd rather enjoyed dreaming. Even if he didn't always remember his dreams, it was nice to wake up without feeling lonely or hungry or sad. At least, he didn't immediately... It was probably because Mother was in most of his dreams, alive and well and always very happy to see him. That was nice. He liked to feel wanted and loved, something he had been lacking these past few months save for when he dreamed. When he was alone, he mostly just felt hungry and, well, lonely.

Right now, mother was scolding him for having muddy fur again. But despite the chiding tone, her warm emerald eyes looked happy. She was amused by the childish way in which he always seemed to find a mess. It made his tail wag, both in his dream and in the world on the outside. She was such a pretty woman, even when she was scolding him. Her face was sweet as he remembered it and her voice loving and kind even as she threatened him with a proper bathing. Somewhere in this dream world, his more realistic mind mused on the fact that he would actually very much appreciate a regular bath, even if he hadn't before. You never realize what you have until it is gone...

This dream would not last very long, however, for a sharp, cold, wet nudge jarred him back to reality.

Touch.

The pale silver-blue and white body flailed to life in immediate reaction to the small nose prodding under his armpit, paws striking out toward the unknown thread in a panicked attempt to get distance. Shepherd slid several inches away on the slippery grass in his wild flurry, his back quickly finding the rose bush and several sharp thorns which penetrated his fur. He let out a shrill yelp and finally forced his paws under his body where they belonged. He scurried away from both his phantom attacker and the prickly rose bush, mud-slicked fur all on end as he turned to set his citrus-green eyes on the offender.

Fear was clear on the boy's face as he looked back and forth between the prickly plant and speckled girl, sleep-clouded mind not quite sure which was the bigger threat just yet. For all his frantic movement before, there was not an ounce of rage on his face. There was simple, innocent fear and confusion. He might have nearly been full grown, but Shepherd was still very young of mind and clearly lacked a single mean bone in his body. But fear... he was visibly shaken with fear.

In the months since Mother's passing, he had come across only one wolf. A little girl, just a puppy, had wandered up to him when he had been digging up Mother's rose bush last autumn. Without his mother around for support or encouragement, the boy had simply panicked and ran in a very juvenile fashion. So, it was difficult now to know what to feel as the shroud of sleep faded and he realized he was staring at the same vibrant violet eyes which had found him those months back. She was bigger now, probably about a year old if he had any judgment, and that did little to settle any of his nerves.

Unfortunately for him, the fright which had woken him now had him frozen to the ground as his gaze finally settle solely on the younger girl. His ears flattened against his skull humbly, eyes wide with silent pleading as he leaned back as far as his body would stretch, but his paws stubbornly refused to move now. Shepherd didn't know what to say - or if he should say anything at all - let alone what to do.