Fox's Glade Trouble on the homefront

Mawk had heard about the incident with the skunk - it did not take a considerable length of time before the other two children rushed to him complaining about how much Cyron reeked. Poor boy, he had probably been mortified. The Scout had been out hunting when the first call from his mate came, and he recognised it as a worried sound - something must be wrong. Perhaps it had to do with Cyron, but Mawk had been sure the boy wouldn't have left the den after a fright such as the one he had experienced. Guess maybe he had been wrong. Then again, it might not be related to the boy at all.

He swiftly deposited the limp rabbit to a nearby cache and set off to see what was up, however as the second call came - much more panicked and fearful - the man sped up, feeling dirt kick up behind him by his large paws. On he went, until finally he arrived at the scene. Illecebra's figure was not too far away now, and Mawk barked a greeting before padding straight over to see what the fuss was about. However, even as he walked, the distinct, putrid smell of skunk filled his nostrils, as well as the unmistakable scent of his small son. Aside from that, though, there was a different scent - one that made his fur prickle with worry. For this scent was one that belonged to a stranger, and having that mixed in with Cyron's was not a good sign.

"Cebra... where's Cyron?" He asked, biting his cheek. He was indeed very concerned about the location of the grey boy, and from the distressed look on his mate's face he feared the worst.