The creek that Logan usually visited to clear his head was running again. The alpha sat by it on the tree stump, with his pants and legs rolled up and his feet in the running water. He let the coolness of the creek wash over his anxieties and worries of the last few days. Soon he started to feel better, and he gave a huge sigh of contentment.
The grove of trees around the creek was deathly quiet, save for the chirping of birds and the whispering of the trees. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, thinking about anything but the pack, Aella, or the rogue killings.
It was clear that Logan was a great lover of nature, as he soon got himself lost in its tranquility. This particular creek held much sentimental value for him, as he had discovered it when he was a young boy. The stream
