whatcha got there

*Balsam*

Balsam had recently returned to a much changed Boreas. Travelers told fanciful tales of bleeding eyeballs and crystal growths, and he didn't believe a single word of it. I mean come on. Mushrooms growing out ears? Crystals out of wounds? Please. It was all so silly. What he couldn't deny, however, was the feeling of 'healing' that permeated the land. Critters great and small spooked easily. He couldn't speak for anyone else but Balsam was finding hunting a bit difficult. So what did one do when the goings got tough? They let someone else do all the work.

He crossed the border in the trees. All these years later they were still home to him. Climbing in them was as natural and easy as running on the ground was for some.

Once over by a dozen yards or so, Balsam dropped to the ground. There he glanced around to catch his bearings. He'd come in for food but really, he'd take whatever caught his fancy. A meal was a priority, yes, but any item of value was liable to get plucked up if he thought he could get away with it. It really just depended on how far he got before someone caught wind of him.

Ah, speaking of. Someone was coming. He could hear them stepping through the foliage. Balsam was off quick as a whip into the thicket. He slipped into the shadows and crouched down. Would they walk on by or catch scent of him? He was up for the challenge either way.

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