Dagmær growled as the rabbit scurried back inside its burrow. She was down-wind, not that there was much wind here to begin with. She could’ve sworn that her scent was well hidden but obviously not… well, maybe. The strange thing about this forest was that quite a few animals seemed to be a bit jumpy, more nervous than usual. Did it have anything to do with the sun beginning to set? She could feel the fur on the back of her neck rising and prickling down her back. Ok, it was time to get out of here, but which way should she go? Dag’s nostrils flared as she searched for familiar scents as well as sights but nearly jumped out of her skin as a voice started yelling through the trees. Rhys? Her eyes widened and she took off toward the sound, weaving around trees and debris as she sought the source of the noise.
“Rhys! Rhys is that you? Hey, wait up!”
She chased after Rhys and just as she was about to pounce… she fell right through her friend and into the muck. “Rhys?” She looked around and saw nothing, heard nothing, smelt… nothing. Good lord had she imagined it? Dag got to her paws, ears and tail hanging down in shame.
