On the Move

Traveling was so boring! Moving was so boring! Saracyn hated it all. He couldn't play, he couldn't explore, he couldn't roam or do anything! "Stay in the cart," Mom had said. "Don't go running off," Dad had scolded. Ugh, but there was nothing to do! They'd all gotten up at basically the crack of dawn just to be loaded up with the rest of their belongings and then wheeled off the island that had been their home. Why did they have to leave anyway? It wasn't like anyone ever came to the island. So why couldn't they just keep it? They were there first, after all. None of it made sense to Saracyn, who spent almost all of the trip pouting and whining. If he was going to be miserable, then he was going to make sure everyone else was miserable too.

Finally after traveling for nearly almost the whole day, Manea announced that they'd arrived and Saracyn didn't waste any time bolting out of the cart to stretch his legs. At half a year, he was already growing like a weed, and proving he could very well match his parents in terms of height over time. Vivid cerulean eyes scanned over the flat land in the middle of the forest, surrounded by trees. Large pools of steaming water dotted the area, and the entire place had a lingering stench sort of like rotten eggs. Saracyn grimaced and stuck out his tongue; they were going to live here?! Gross! Milling about and following both his parents while they unloaded the carts and settled the band in, Sara eventually came to sit by his parents when his mother summoned the band. "I wanna go back to the island, Mom. This place stinks!" he grumbled, sulking with a surly frown on his small muzzle.

"Saracyn Mendacium"