don't eat the yellow snow
Mort!
05-16-2020, 11:34 PM
She stumbled upon his first trail without much trouble, suddenly catching a whiff of something pungent and spicy. Mal reared her head, nose wrinkling with the sting, eyes narrowing when she realized he’d essentially covered his trail. She could barely smell anything with that stuff up her nose!
But it was best to ditch the pepper trail, anyway. The imprint of his paws, the snow around the prints glinting in the moonlight, told a different story, and one that led to the river. So he’s got the same idea as me. Bury his scent in the water.
What to do, what to do? She called Saph, and when the Kea appeared, Mal told her to fly ahead to the river and come back if she happened to spy the boy. In the meantime, she would takeover the companion’s section of the woods.
Slow and steady won the race. Mal and Pach moved even slower now, ears and eyes open for any sound of the boy. They would move through every inch of the forest, ruling out a patch of willows before steadily moving forward, closing in. Really, it was a waiting game. It was inevitable that the boy would come out.
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