And In Conclusion

Álarr stepped carefully across the tangled network of roots and onto the next muddy shoreline. He wasn't sure what he was looking for in particular. He was simply out gathering some wild herbs. He'd had the luck to find some bistort root and was now on the hunt for marsh mallow. The strange illness that had swept through over the winter had completely depleted his stores. A familiar scent wafted across his nostrils. Aha! He was close, he could smell it. Álarr leapt over a small rivulet, catching a bit of moss in his horns as he did so. Ack! He shook his head, tossing the moss aside.