the rot at the roots is the root of the problem

The familiar Ow! and the shaking of a bush reverberated through the trees bringing a fearless smile to the young girl's face, her little deer fangs wiggling in anticipation. There was no mistaking Kor's brash tones anywhere, and Gilda knew if she wanted to hunt a kraken, she'd have to be extra crafty.

Gilda started to pay attention to where she was placing her paws. Her ears weren't quite up all the time yet and one flopped across the top of her head while the other stood up straight. She rolled her shoulders forward to protect her neck, expecting her sister to burst from the undergrowth any moment. The anticipation was killing her. She just might shriek with laughter when her sister finally found her.

"speech"