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Your Average Fennix Vacation feat. Chase

"I'm telling you Chase, what we're doing sounds like it's out of a movie." Dexter said as he clutched the wheel tight, and put the gears in forward. The speedboat hummed and rumbled away from the docks, back in the Polynesian Archipelago

"You don't watch anything that's an action movie or is a Power Rangers movie." Chase leaned over to the white wolf's passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt on a teenage Miles was secured. Yet the young wolf couldn't resist sticking his head out to the side with a hanging mouth and tongue lolling against the wind. He chuckled at that as he sat beside Dexter who had that grin on his face, and the posture of his body to have done the same.

"You'd be surprised at the previews they show kids. Last time we saw..." The water straight ahead was clear, and there were small islands, and a few tall protruding stones on the side. Chase would be looking ahead on his behalf, so he turned to Miles asking, "Son, what was the last movie we watched?"

Miles leaned his head back into the boat. "I think it was the Ruffians of the Indian Ocean." He thought back to the movie and recalled the characters there who rarely complained about the smell of such things. If they did, the movie would've felt like a chore to watch, like how the initial sea smell was unpleasant as it turned out. Very salty and not a lot of sweetness to it. The sight was very stunning at least.

"That's right!" Dexter turned back onto the sea, their destination some miles away. "When we watched it two months ago, there was this advertisement for a movie called Nom's Island; a mother and her son go on a literal over-the-seas trip to an island paradise vacation. A storm drove them ashore and capsized their boat. Then guess what happens?"

"What?" Chase could already tell it from a nautical mile away.

"The mother told her son about his father who got lost at sea. And they find him on the island they were stranded on. Probably a happily-ever-after kind of ending too." Dexter guessed.

Miles didn't even remember a lick of what his father talked about. All he could recall from the Ruffians was the stellar fight scenes with beautiful setpieces in the background. It reminded him of the time he saw such postcards on the fridge, back when his father had gone to these islands before. And, like the movie, it was different when you went there in person. Besides the fishy scent, it had warm winds, the sea was serene with gentle waves and birds chirping at distant skies, and how far it all seemed from actual issues such as war. Or, in his case, the endless amounts of homework.

Chase looked up, not a cloud to the sky.

"Don't worry," Dexter reached over and patted his shoulder. A chuckle escaped his lips because of how silly the panther was. "It's going to be clear for the entire week."

"Damn it," he groaned out. And they both glanced at Miles for a moment before turning back ahead. "He's a lucky guy, having that white fur."

Miles overheard him, and his father too when he said, "Right? Screw you for that bet by the way."

"Pride cometh before the fall." Chase quipped back, and they both exchanged laughs.

Miles heard it several times already but he always found it funny nonetheless. This time around he was hunched over the warm wooden handles of the boat. His eye caught a rock formation with another speedboat at its base. There were people with colorful backpacks climbing on the side. "Hey dad, what're they doing?" He extended his arm, pointing at them.

Dexter was about to enter a turn, following a GPS on his phone. "Chase, what'd he see?"

Chase turned around, eyeing where the white wolf's finger traced. He squinted his eyes the further they went, but he raised a brow when he saw. "Ah, they're doing the climbing activity."

"Ah!" Dexter patted the driving wheel after the turn ended. "I wanted to try that and camp up there. Even planned renting climbing gear."

Miles glanced at the bags, only then did he notice the entwined climbing rope and hooks that were looped on their sides. "I thought those were for our tents."

"Technically they could also be used for that too," Chase commented. "Tents are basically sheets hung up on strings hooked around a high point. And nature has a lot of those."

"Ohhhh," Miles nodded with his mouth agape. It made a lot of sense now, especially looking back to his father's declassified photographs in caverns, and oases.

"We're good at putting them up, and," he gestured to his father, "he turned them into rain catchers too."

"The key is to not do it in a desert. Learned that the hard way." Dexter scoffed out, almost sinking in his seat.

"Oh yeah," Chase turned to Miles again. "He decided to make a rain catcher during a windy rain storm. First sip of water had particles of sand so small that our filters couldn't stop them."

"Yep, so son, remember: if you're going to get freshwater, go to a river and follow it upstream. And make sure it doesn't have animals." Dexter said.

"Yes sir," Miles nodded.

"C'mon kiddo, we're not stateside. You could call me dad here." Dexter giggled, tail wagging.

Miles smiled, then he looked over the boat in wonder. There were plenty of fishes in the blue water that swam away from them. Yet they were all so colorful, and weird looking. The kind of fishes one would see in biology books, and here they were swimming in relative peace. One of them looked like a very tiny shark with long catfish whiskers. But his fascination was redirected to a see-through fish that he couldn't contain his excitement. "What kind of fish is that?!"

Dexter slowed down his boat, curious of what his son saw. Chase unbuckled his seatbelt and teetered over to his side. The latter said, "That's amazing." As he pulled out his camera and took a few photos. It was easier to look at the slower the boat went; this transparent fish had two whiskers on both sides of its upper lip, and you could see its needlelike spine and its clump of dark pink internal organs swaying with the motion it swam, and a tail almost as transparent.

"Do you think the meat's invisible if we try to eat it?" Miles thought out loud. But his eyes fixated on the other colorful fishes; shades of blue, red, and even purple that he had never seen on such creatures. And Chase took more photos of them as well.

"Probably," Dexter got off his seat and watched the colorful schools start swimming around their boat as it drifted. "Either way we won't. One, fishing is not allowed because only the locals could do it. Two, some of them could be poisonous."

"Or venomous," Chase added. He took a photo of a larger fish that had a blue face and upper fin, but with a red body and dark gray tailfin. "Posnomous would be the term for both?" Dexter shook his head, smiling, while Miles giggled out of that. That was all he needed.

"Nonetheless, son," Dexter crouched down beside him. "You have to be careful of the wilderness. Because some of these fishes can be dangerous." He lifts his arm, pointing at something off in the distance. Far from the archipelago.

Miles leaned forward, squinting his eyes. Amazed himself that he could see a moving protrusion just over the water. "That's a shark?" Perhaps it could be a different iteration of a shark he wouldn't know. But it was definitely one.

"Yep. And it's only dangerous because it can bite you." Dexter said morbidly. "But some of the creatures down there," gesturing at a light brown fish with brown spots all over, "are dangerous when you bite it."

"Same goes for berries." Chase took a photo of the last fish Dexter referred to.

"Got it." Miles said, looking at another unusual fish where its front half was blue and bluish white scales, but the back half slowly turned to yellow ones. Chase took photos of them too. "We have enough food, right?" The young wolf turned back to their bags.

"Of course," Dexter got back on his seat and shifted the gears, their drift turning to a smooth sail. The fishes surrounding them scattered. "We have enough to last us for twice our stay, and we could pick ripe fruit at our destination. That we can do."

Miles looked around at the islands. Those that were low had palm trees, while those rocky formations had vines, and smaller trees on top. Birds were landing on top of them and could only guess they were nesting. Some were quiet, especially as their boat passed, but distant ones had louder squawking. He asked his father, "Hey dad, maybe I could try picking some fruit on the island?"

"Sure," Dexter answered, leaving a wide grin on his son's face. "Think of it as climbing a regular tree but you could just hug it entirely, no need to fuss about with branches. Make sure three of your limbs are clinging on, okay?"

"Yes dad," Miles imagined picking off a massive bunch of yellow bananas. Maybe green ones too, and he had another question to ask. "What do green bananas taste like?"

"Kinda bitter, and tougher to chew." He said. "Healthier though. I've heard from an American soldier, who then heard from his brother who was a Marine; when they were doing training exercises in the Philippines, they'd eat it with cooked snake, and rice steamed in bamboo."

Chase sat beside, "Compared to cactii, I'd take it."

"But anything is better than your cooking." Dexter zinged, making himself and his son laugh.

Chase shook his head, "I'm gonna make you eat your words there."

Miles replied, "Still better than what you've cooked." He laughed.

There was a pause between the adults, exchanging looks and scoffing at each other. They looked at the teen and had a boisterous laughter that startled the local wildlife with birds squawking back at them. Their joshing lasted for a few minutes, long enough for their island to be in view.

Chase spoke first, "Gotta say Dex, your son's starting to develop that soldier humor." He smiled, going over to him as the boat slowed, and gave him a good 'ol head scruffing. "He'll be greater than both of us combined."

"You really think so?" Miles wagged his tail.

"Humor's one thing," Dexter said. "Everything else is another. And how's about we test that out here, in warmer weather."

Miles felt the tropical heat build up inside his fur. "Yes dad."

The island was larger than the rest, but there were certainly bigger ones further beyond. Crashing water could be heard somewhere in the middle of the island, something that the other islands didn't have. It was the highlight of his father's trip back in his youth, and often talked about how therapeutic it was.

Miles played a mental slideshow of his father's old photos. From the fancy waterfall of this island to literally swimming with fishes. The fun part of discovering the fishes moments ago was the fact that none of them were present in Dexter's photos either. He was amazed by such variety and color, he hoped that maybe he could see more that were unique to him.

"Dad?" The white wolf asked as their boat parked near the shore.

"Yes son?"

"Can we swim with the fishes later?"

Chase chuckled at the movie-esque quote while preparing the docking rope.

"We'll see," Dexter looked around the open water. "Depends on the safety, and if we're exhausted from our exercise later." He turned the vessel and purposefully shored it. Miles held onto the railings while Chase disembarked opposite of him.

The panther tied it, and double tied it to the three closest trees. They all had large trunks, and coconuts at the very top. But these weren't brown like he normally saw them in the grocers. They were green, and not exactly spherical.

"Ah green coconuts. I learned from that same guy that all you need is a good rock to open them." Dexter said. "Luckily there's a lot of them around." There were rock formations caught between where the sand met the soil. Some were sharp by natural deformity.

Miles had gone off the boat to notice one that was particularly struck and shaped to make it optimal for breaking them open. "I think this one's used by a lot of people." Other than the slight brown coconut skin shreds that were stuck to the sand. It almost seemed like a jagged pyramid, easy to imagine that you would drop a coconut on it, or smash with enough force to make a hole to drink off of. And then strike it again to open it and eat its contents.

"Yep, sure is." Chase investigated along after tying the boat down.

"What else can you do with coconuts besides eat them?" He looked around the discarded shavings again. Partially disgusted by the wasteful nature of previous guests, but the more he thought about it, it would probably be fertilizer. "Or wear them?" And his mind went over to cartoons where female characters, and rarely male ones, used them as bras.

Chase picked up one of the remaining bits and clawed at the surface until its fiber got scraped off. "You could turn this into rope." He said. "And you could use it for climbing, making traps, or a hammock if you could find enough of them."

Miles looked to the palm trees above and around the beach, and several more inward of the island. "Do you think we have enough for one hammock, uncle Chase?"

He shook his head laughing, "Hah I don't think so." And gestured back to the boat. "Let's go get our stuff and go explore Dex's island, alright?"

"Hey dad, how much is this island?" Miles asked as he and Chase went back to the boat.

"To rent?" Dexter pocketed the keys to the boat, and fetched their gear. Passing it to them, "A lot. To own? Way too much. Don't worry about it son. All that matters is your enjoyment." His own bag had the standard camping supplies, clothing and other essentials, and he also had their tent and climbing gear.

Chase got his, just as large, which had the aforementioned stuff, and survival equipment such as flares, satellite phones, and even a full medkit.

Miles had a smaller pack that already included his own clothing, and extra food and drink for all three of them. He felt like he could bring more though, and even heaved their bags from time to time; they weren't that heavy in comparison. Today would be the day to prove himself perhaps.

Dexter went around and double checked the rope that hoisted the boat down. And went around the back with his best friend and son's help to push it closer inland as the end of the boat still kissed the water. Best to not let it drift away during the evening tide.

Once the bow of the boat kissed a palm tree, Chase redid the ropes holding it down and made sure that a storm could not even make it tilt. He even gave pointers to Miles on how to do it too.

It was not the amount of ties that held it down, rather the length of the rope, and the loops it had to an object, which one would then tie down afterwards. Three or more could make it flimsy, one is enough.

"C'mon Chase, we're not here to tutor him yet." Dexter said as he led them into a familiar trail.

"I just want your boy to impress his instructors 'tis all." Chase followed suit, Miles moving up to be beside his father.

Miles could familiarize with the fact that it was very similar to the mountain trekking he did back in Canada. Roots everywhere, a few low-lying palm trees, brushes though without the berries. There were sandpits here and there instead of soil, and a surprising lack of animals. Yet whenever he looked up to check on fruit, some of which were ripened coconuts and bananas, he would often find a nest with colorful birds resting atop.

They were still, quiet, because of their visitors. Especially with how loud Dexter was who went on to say, "Well, trying to outdo your c.o. isn't exactly a good first impression I would want my son to have." He added, "If I were his drill sergeant, and I know he'd do two-fifty, I'd make him do five hundred."

"Easy!" Miles chimed in, eliciting a laugh from the adults. Chase wrung an arm around him and noogied his head.

"That's the spirit." Chase gave him breathing space after.

"I'm sure it's not allowed anyways, but I wouldn't mind dropping by and giving his future drill sergeant a tip or two." And they all laughed.

From the beach into the short flatland forest. Stone formations were few and far between as well as the sand pits. The path they went had slowly turned to more soil, and rocky, with narra trees the deeper they went in, and closer to the sound of the waterfalls. Miles and Chase noticed Dexter looking around fondly, as if the black wolf had found a long lost home in the wilderness. He would look at a path longingly, and next would be a tree of no significance for the two others with him.

Miles wondered if he himself would find such a place, and Chase simply admired the beauty and cleanliness of all this. The latter found himself in a new environment that was not as bad as he thought it would be. Maybe they got lucky and found a jungle that was not ladened with mosquitoes, snakes, and indigenous people who thought they were intruding in their territory. Then again, why would anyone rent an island for a ludicrous price if those were taken into account?

They were mere steps away from the waterfalls, and their path ended up on a river that led up to it. It was an inclined walk but not too steep that it would imbalance them, Miles being the most likely. He looked at the water, visible through the shimmer of light as it rushed through the stone. It wasn't wide nor had depth to support the fishes, or maybe there wouldn't be any at all.

Miles wondered, "Is this water safe to drink?"

"Mhm," Dexter raised a thumbs up. "You can even drink it right now if you want."

"Oh, sweet." Miles crouched down, and Chase followed suit out of curiosity too. Dexter stopped and watched, smiling that they were enjoying the simplicity of it. The young wolf got himself a handful of very fresh water. It smelled like wet stone, earthy, and fragrant but that would be from the surrounding trees and vines that had flowers on them.

And he lapped it once. It had a cool mineral taste to it. Miles kept lapping at it and gulped it down when it hadn't made him feel ill in the moments he consumed it. And he took another handful and gulped it down, tail wagging. It tasted better than the hotel water, and he can feel the vigor within him being restored and enhanced.

Chase beside him had three gulps and wiped his lips clean with his arm. He said, "That's really cool. Much better than the oasis back in Iraq at least."

"Tons better." Dexter said.

And Chase jabbed his side, "Much better than sand-flavored rainwater too."

Continuing on, they could see where the incline ends, and from it where the waterfalls started. Chase urged them both to pause, and for Dexter to move aside as he crouched down with camera in hand. Miles knelt down behind him and saw the panther aligning the start of the waterfalls with the river, almost combining them.

"That's cool, Uncle Chase." Miles saw him snap a few photos.

Once they were done admiring it, Dexter whistled at them, "We're almost there guys." And gestured at them to join him at the top.

When the rest of this famed waterfall came to view, Miles and Chase saw what Dexter meant, and much more. From earlier photographs, there were vines on the rocky formation that led downward, tangled on trees whose roots bound themselves to the cliffside. Said trees had grown taller, with sturdier roots. There were many more vines with budding flowers on them.

The trees and shrubberies that surrounded the lake had grown larger too. Some of the former had bore fruit indigenous to the tropics, as did the latter with its berries. But Dexter noted a word of caution as he was unfamiliar with them. The fruits he knew well enough; some were durian and the others would be mango.

Dexter went on a tangent on how durian tastes very sweet but had an abhorrent smell that no person on Earth should ever experience. Whereas green mangoes were very sour but people used them as ingredients for salads, except they themselves didn't have anything that could balance it out. He'd rather go with Miles towards the beach later and get themselves a bunch of bananas or a few coconuts.

A small camp was assembled near the coast of the lake. It was mostly Dexter and Miles who pitched tents, at the former's request so Chase could take photographs and 'selfies' as how the youth today would put it.

What Miles had in mind was the stereotypical one for camping, where you duck underneath pitched fabric for a small space with protection against the elements. Dexter brought a tent assembly set that had enough room to walk around in, with four walls and a netted zipper door. Completed when the black wolf hung a small kerosene lamp to brighten the inside. He only tested it if it worked, and turned it off for the evening later.

Dexter gathered them inside, "How's about we all go for a swim?" He smirked.

"Yeah!" Miles hopped where he stood, and peeked out of the tent and looked at the waterfalls. "I wanna try what it feels like at the bottom of that."

"It's not as painful as you think," Chase said, going over to his bag and fetching his swimwear.

Miles went to his but Dexter gave him a new pair, with the colors of black and red. He accepted the gift and hugged his father tightly.

Before long, all three guys had stepped out of their little abode, and resembled a stereotypical military family. Dexter and Miles wore matching speedos, while Chase had black and yellow on his. All three were muscular and toned for their age, but beggar's belief Miles had more brawn than his father did at his age.

"Telling ya Dex, your son's got you beat." Chase nudged the black wolf's side.

"He still has to beat some of the records I and the guys have set." Dexter replied, ruffling his son's hair.

"Records?" Miles crossed his arm in surprise. The fact that Chase brought it up in such confidence gave him an expectation to overcome.

Dexter reached over and clamped Chase's muzzle before he could say anything else. He took it in good stride at least, "It'll be a surprise." And he glared at Chase, "And nothing more, okay?"

Chase nodded against his muzzle, and he was released to chuckle about it. "Good luck, basically."

"That said, son, you want to try it out?" Dexter asked.

Eyeing around there were enough spots for them to conduct the necessary exercises. Apart from rifle shooting of course.

Miles' tail drooped between his legs at the thought of the surprise, worried that it may have been too much for him to handle, thus disappointing his father. Surely it wouldn't be that bad, given the age and all, and that they've been building him up as a successor. Nonetheless, he whimpered, "I guess?"

"Aw, what's wrong son?" Dexter knelt on one knee beside him, holding his shoulder firm. "Worried that you can't live up to your father's expectations?" There was that subtle nod. "Lemme tell ya something: I didn't even know I've achieved the record until after they've been done. The beauty of not knowing how high, at times, is that if you are ambitious enough, son," he held his chest firmly, "you can be better than what you think."

"That's how he did it," Chase chimed in.

Miles nodded at his godfather and turned to his actual father, "You really think I can beat your record?" Hugging him tightly after.

"Mhm," Dexter hugged and patted his back. "I didn't want to tell you in the hopes that you can go farther than what it already is. And I don't anticipate you being unable to do it because, really Miles, I know you can exceed further than my expectations."

That restored confidence in the younger wolf, his white fur stood out and shone against the afternoon sunlight. His body tensed in eagerness, and he stepped back to his father and shot him a salute, "Let's go do some exercises, dad!"

"That's the spirit!" Dexter yelled, their voices echoed. He then led them to a smoothstone clearing near the waterfalls. It was rigid enough to be rough, but moist enough that it wouldn't chaff.

Chase said, "Y'know what, why don't I also join in and see if I can beat your old man at his own game." He stood two arms length away from both wolves, who then maintained a similar distance from each other as well.

"What's the score again?" Dexter lightly snided at him, "Fifty eight to two, right?"

Chase, undeterred, replied, "Let's make it fifty eight to three."

Miles noticed the exchange, and caught his father staring at him with a head tilt towards a very determined Chase. At first he thought it was to laugh at it, but he noted the quality that the panther had presented. One about having strong willpower- despite the massive gap between their competition that had lasted a better part of their lives, his father's best friend still had that drive. Plus they were both lieutenants who were well-renowned in their careers.

The young wolf took it in, tail wagging, and when his father glanced back at him, he nodded at the lesson that we would take moving forward. Little did he know at the time that it would become a strong foundation of who he was.

Dexter commenced their impromptu competition, "Let's start with something simple: push-ups for five minutes."

Chase already got into position.

Miles shot his father a smile before getting down onto the cool rock too. He briefly recalled all the times he had done push-ups in the backyard. Everyday during the summer, when there weren't classes, he'd get up early and do one hundred reps, then two hundred, three hundred, and eventually within a time limit. And when he had gone back to school, his peers would be intimidated, and added to his untouchable stature. Apart from his military father of course.

Everyone had their bodies just above the ground, held up by toned arms and legs. Dexter shouted, "Begin!" That echoed outwards of the island.

Miles used a lesson he learned; not to look at the progress of others. He counted down in his mind, doing one push up every two seconds. But each passing one felt slow that he could've sworn he did one at every tick of a clock. After the fifty fifth rep, his muscles started heating, and once they were at ninety they were burning.

The slosh of the waterfalls was loud but when his count had exceeded one fifty, he started hearing the other adults grunt and exhale loud air. Miles did not look and kept on with his exercise. And by the time his father shouted, "Stop!" He stood up having done about one hundred and ninety seven push-ups, and in five minutes too which was the most he had done in time. If memory serves him right, the most he had prior was about ninety six in that timespan. His father was right, and his tail wagged at the eagerness to hear what their numbers were.

They were all taking a quick breather, exchanging glances and thumbs up at each other. Chase turned to Miles, "Alright kiddo, how many did you do?"

"One hundred ninety seven!" Miles proclaimed, stomping in place at the excitement.

Both Chase and Dexter applauded him, the latter giving him a short day-howl. "That's my boy!" Dexter said, rushing over to hug him. "It's good, son. Very very good."

"How many did you guys do?" He turned to his father and godfather.

Chase answered, "Two hundred twenty."

Miles was astonished that he was closer to his godfather than he realized. Heart beating fast but not just because of the adrenaline. He turned to his father who stepped back with crossed arms. "And you, dad?"

"Two hundred and fifty." Dexter gave them both a slow nod. "Fifty nine, three."

"Hah, good one." Chase raised his hand, and Dexter did too. They gave each other a firm handshake, a procession after every competition. "But your son's picking up, huh?"

"Yep," they both glanced at Miles. Dexter nodded approvingly, proud of what his son did. "We're not yet done though. Back into positions, boys." Dexter went back, Chase stretched his legs. "Jumping jacks next, five minutes."

Everyone stanced up for the next exercise. Hands over their heads while their legs were together. Chase and Miles looked at Dexter waiting for the go signal. The latter would be aware how his parental figures performed, and he told his mind to not focus on them, rather himself.

"Go!" Dexter shouted aloud, echoing into the late afternoon sky.

Miles focused on what's in front of him, a long row of trees that stretched as far as he could see, thick enough to not see the beaches nor the ocean. Yet in his peripheral he could see Dexter and Chase conduct themselves in such a hurried manner. He felt as if they did twice in the one pace he normally did. So he closed his eyes and focused inward, finding himself doing more as the internal countdown continued.

It went from fifty, to a hundred, and two afterwards. By the time his father finished the countdown, the young wolf had done about three hundred fifty reps, much more than he did back home which was a hundred less.

"Four hundred," Dexter panted for moments before he composed himself.

"Three ninety," Chase mimicked the same motion but took a moment longer to compose.

"Three fifty." Miles harshly breathed, and relaxed himself as Chase did too. He turned his body in a stretch, muscles still burning but he felt them grow.

"Good job," Dexter applauded again. "Alright," he gestured to the trees behind him. "Pull-ups next. Five minutes."

"Sure Dex," Chase said. While Miles answered, "Yes dad!" They went over to the edge of the forest, with sturdy branches and old large trunks. Fruit grew underneath them, green mangoes, and were much larger than the ones he'd seen in Canadian grocers.

They each found themselves a branch on separate trees, giving it three pull ups to make sure it wouldn't snap, let alone budge. Miles did practice pull ups in what was essentially nature's pull bar.

He asked his father, "Is this how tribes people do their exercise?"

Chase laughed and Dexter shook his head saying, "Not really. Manual labor is their exercise."

And with that answer, the trio readied themselves. Chase rolled around his shoulders, Dexter glanced at both of them, ending on Miles whose eyes were shut. "Alright." A pause. "Go!"

Miles focused on his burning muscles, the sweat on his fur, the heat of the sun that bounced off his white fur, and the constant crash of the waterfall. The branch he pulled up on were as sturdy as the monkey bars on the playground, and when he was finished he did about seventy overall.

The young wolf still had enough vigor to continue more exercise, while Dexter and Chase were more spry, as if it had only energized them more.

"One hundred," Dexter said. Chase followed with, "Ninety. Seven. Almost had you beat there Dex."

"Seventy," Miles panted, stretching upwards to help compose himself. "I did seventy."

"Christ, he's really good for his age, Dex." Chase said, going over to check up on his recovery. Astonished himself that it was almost at par with soldiers in training. It wouldn't surprise him if the youngster could have fatigues and heavy equipment on, and survive a full run with it and not end up last.

"I envy him," Dexter commented, going over and leaning against the tree beside his son who was standing upright and ready for the next challenge. "Actually, Chase, go take a photo of us leaning on this tree."

Miles took the cue and leaned on the opposite side, facing in the direction of their tent.

"Y'know son, back in my day, I didn't really grow up in the military environment that you did. So I had to do everything myself." Dexter said, Miles wondering where this went. He had more to say, "The fact that you have Chase and I training you like this, and you strive and have surpassed us at your age. That's a very important quality of growth, an aspect that a lot of the Americans I've met have; striving to be better. You are a great son, and you will make us proud."

Miles smiled his widest, tail wagging, and the exhaustion blocked out by the praise and optimistic outlook. "Thanks for being the most supportive dad out there. I'm sure mom would be proud of us, and how we've gotten better."

"Yeah, Lexy would be." He reminisced for a moment, a slight frown on his lips. Both of theirs too, but it curved upwards when Chase came over with camera in hand.

A quick portrait was taken with both wolves in the frame, and with Chase after through a selfie. The former photograph Dexter wanted to frame when they were home. And they all went in for a group hug.

Miles let go first, moving towards the lake eager for a swim. "Does this mean we can go swimming now?"

"I'll just put this back," Chase shook the camera as he went back to the tent.

To Miles, Dexter said, "Mhm, but I'll check something out. I think I saw ripe mangoes over there." He pointed in the direction where the sun nearly set, unsure if it was that or yellow fruit. Nonetheless, he went and hopped over the small gap of the river, and his black fur blended into the shadows of the trees.

Miles waved him off, walking towards the lake. He wanted to see if it was deep enough for him to do a cannonball in, which it was. Yet he paused upon seeing his reflection, muscular with toned forearms and abs for a wolf his age. There was giddiness at the thought of being better than the others, maybe even better than his drill sergeant. And even his father, eventually. But what if he couldn't?

Chase joined him, noticing the youngster's drooped ears. He stood beside him, the comparison of their reflections were very different. In color, muscle mass, experience, and sense of determination. "What's wrong, Miles?" He crouched down, looking into the waters.

"Will dad get angry at me if I can't live up to his expectations?" Miles admitted.

Chase let out a long sigh, and a chuckle after. It stung Miles for a moment, but he used an affirming tone, "Miles, sonny," he looked at him while holding his shoulder. "You're almost as good as me at my best. And with your drive, one like I have, you will never ever stagnate." He emphasized the last three words. A definite truth.

Miles exhaled out loud, and he saw Chase curling his left arm in front of him. "Huh?" He turned from the reflection to him.

"C'mon, show me your guns." Chase nudged him softly with an elbow. It seemed powerful at first; resolute and certain.

Miles mirrored his form, the doubt slowly fading away as he saw his arm reaching that of Chase's size. His ears flicked up at the near parallel comparison.

Chase hooked his arm around, pulling the wolf into a hug. "Miles, you're going to be a great soldier. You're already a great son. And a great godson too."

"Thanks Uncle Chase," Miles hugged him tightly too. His body relaxed, tail wagging at the calmness of those words.

And it was filled with adrenaline as he was scooped off the ground, eyes widening as he suddenly felt nothing, followed by the crash into clear cold water with his instinct holding his breath. It took him a while to process the shift from the jungle, and into the lake, where a distinct plant life grew, yet lacked the fishes that used them as shelter. He looked upward to see the blue skies, washed with amber from the setting sun.

Miles swam upwards, and onto the surface upon hearing the laughter from the panther. He spouted water at him, and he chuckled. "I'll get you next time, Uncle Chase!" Miles proclaimed. The score then would be zero to one.

"Maybe in ten years but today won't be that day!" Chase answered back as he stepped back.

Miles swam closer to the shore, wondering where the panther would've gone. Instead, however, ran and jumped over his head shouting 'Cannonball!' Landing dead center in the lake, causing a slight tide to submerge his head for a moment.

They both shared a laugh afterwards. The lake was cool, and very clear, but not drinkable seeing as two guys who had performed vigorous exercise were swimming in it. Miles figured that the water from the waterfalls would still be drinkable to say the least.

It would be a few minutes after when Dexter returned with a bunch of ripe mangoes in his arms. Most of which were yellow while some still had green spots on them. He said something along the lines of, "These'll be ripe and sweet in the next few days."

Miles and Chase got out of the water first and decided to claw the most yellow one open, finding it to be a very sweet and nutritious treat. After that, the white wolf went over the waterfalls and found a small clearing behind it, which Dexter chimed in stating he meditated in such a place.

"What was it like?" Miles' voice echoed around the room.

Dexter said, "It was very calming. I actually slept here but it was not good to wake up soaked."

Chase walked in too, looking around, "You didn't bring a tent with you?"

"Maybe not. I recall a sleeping bag." Dexter touched the walls and stood still, reminded by who he was. A great chasm surrounded him where he was the black wolf, an inner sense of being that would be unconquered yet disciplined. He was the master of his own fate, where the sun shone where he walked, and that the moon guided him in the darkness. A reminder of the day he earned him the title 'New Moon Sniper'; a ghastly figure, killer of evil, who blocked out the shining evening light as he delivered his vengeance.

Miles glanced at his father, to Chase, and back to him wondering what went on in his father's head. He glanced around the smooth walls, almost unnatural that the stone here had been unchanged for centuries, or even a millennia.

The white wolf went over to the waterfall and stood underneath it, on the stone cliff that washed it. His father was right that it didn't hurt him, but it was quite the shower. Tolerable enough that he sat down and emulated what his father went through. Chase chuckled, whispering under his breath how adorable that was and left them to their thoughts.

Miles found himself relaxed, enduring the challenges in the hopes to be better than his contemporaries, his godfather, and his father. In the black depths of his mind, a white wolf of his own features appeared right in front of him. They stared at each other for moments, but his contemporary grew larger. He looked up at him who looked down, and he realized then, a gut feeling, that he would eventually overcome himself.

And he came back to his senses, yanked out of the dream by a black hand touching his shoulder. It was Dexter saying, "C'mon son, let's go have dinner." The skies were a dark blue as it slowly transitioned into the evening.

A fire had been set up on the stone, made of dried leaves and thin branches. Chase returned with opened up coconuts, their juice still in it served like cups. Dexter used the packets from the MREs he brought, making pseudo-mashed potatoes, and one that had poutine- Miles' favorite.

While the MRE foodstuffs were no culinary arts, except for the poutine that Miles could never not enjoy, the coconut water was sweet and satisfying. And they clawed out the meat, which was fresh, moist, and easy on the stomach.

That night, hours after eating and telling stories of Dexter and Chase's military career, they finished it with stargazing. As clear as the skies were with all the twinkling stars, the moon was not full. Despite this, however, Dexter and Miles let out a subtle father-son howl that even Chased joined in too for he had always been part of the family.

Miles thought about that wolf once more and how, for now, it was just him and he had overcome that day's challenges. Certainly more to come, and eventually his greatest adversary: himself. He couldn't wait to confront it and emerge victorious.

His tired eyes came to a close as he fell asleep, resting on his father's shoulder. The young wolf said to him, "Good night dad, I'll see you in the morning." He said, "I love you."

"I love you too, son." Dexter replied. "I am proud of you." And so these words echoed as Miles drifted off.

****