Cricket Creek Bog Nobody likes the records that I play.

The bleeding had finally stopped, though its surcease was followed by a day or two of nausea that left Towhee wondering. She opted for absolute denial. As soon as she recovered from her queasiness, she tried to make herself useful by patrolling the copse.

She finished her midday route at the southern end of the territory, then decided to try finding some small game for Meerkat. There was a promising scent trail leading further south, though she remembered her daughter mentioning an up-and-coming pack there.

Her nostril’s flared in disapproval. Nevertheless, she swung west toward the bog. She spent the early hours of the afternoon scouring the frozen marshland. Towhee managed to catch a scrawny muskrat, then retraced her steps back toward the place where Sun Mote Copse and Cedar Sweep met.

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