Morran was prolific in the area, and there were traces of her everywhere - each one a potential lead. The pups were despatched with strict instructions not to engage, and given a trail to follow to the end. The scent was not as fresh as the one that curved south-west, but Morran was a tricksy old beast - every clue had to be investigated.
The trail took them North, to the marshland that separated the Grove from its nearest neighbour. The ground was treacherous here, and the smell of bear was strong - several of them had camped out here, and recently.
Troubled by the absence of his mother and siblings, Pasha went north. Though they were instructions from his father, he may as well have marched ahead like some word of God had spoken to him. In spite of his troubled feelings, Pasha was determined to do something. Anything that would bring home his family and preferably, make it whole again.
As they arrived along the fringes of the Marsh, his pace was forced to slow. The muddy landscape and pockets of foul water slowed him where he did not want and in a matter of time, the third-born Frostfur was just as dirty, muddy, and dingy as the world around them. It wasn't even that long before he found himself sticking in the mud itself, and at one such point with a frustrated sigh he cast his gaze around, trying to find Jorunn, or even Whittier.
The three boys had went North, at the word of Scimitar, with Pasha as the group “leader”. Though there was some part of this that caused some sort of gross envy to bubble within Jorunn's chest — for it would appear that the first born syndrome didn't entirely work it's way out of his system (even that he wasn't the first born of his biological litter) — he swallowed it. Clearly, Kaskara had a good reason for assigning his brother as the leader, despite that Jorunn had experience with bears. ...If one could really consider confrontation and then throwing himself into the sea to avoid being eaten experience. Yet, at the same time, from a strategical standpoint, Pasha could see better than Jorunn, whose monochromacy made it something of a normal struggle for him. Despite this, he kept pace with Pasha and Whittier with ease, long legs carrying him along, though he straggled behind Whittier with the intention of protecting the rear of their little gang as they followed the scent trail. The idea of confronting a bear (despite that they were told not too) filled Jorunn with a sort of heightened unease ...and odd excitement. He was bigger than he'd been the first time. He was very nearly, if not already at, his full and impressive height. Even if the promise of broad shoulders and handsome masculinity was dampened by his awkward evidence of puberty. He still had growing to do, filling out into his adult body.
The further North they went, following the bear's scent trail they ended up following it to Witches Marsh. The scent was the strongest here, and Jorunn turned Caribbean blue eyes with the ring of notable silver around the pupils to his brother's, hesitant for a moment. He smelled more than one, and the thought caused a quicken in his heart. One bear the three of them might stand a small chance but more than one? It was a suicide mission, but as Pasha pushed into the marsh, Jorunn followed figuring this probably made them some sort of suicide squad, then. He quelled his internal fear, ready to face his biggest fear.
The marsh, however, seemed determined to keep them at bay, the mud thick and sticky. “Oh man, this is so gross,” Jorunn couldn't help the devilish grin that teased at the corners of his lips as he lifted a foreleg and mud splattered as it was released. Of course it's level of gross was what made it awesome. “Maybe we should roll around in it, to mask our scents? If the bears are here then they might not find us, but Bazi, Swift and Allure will be able to recognize us.” Not by smell but by sight. After all, Scimitar had told then to search for their mother and siblings, not engage the bear(s); and it only made sense to Jorunn that the more they could do to try to remain undetected by the culprits, the better.
Since Stevie's on absence until the 19th, I figured it may do us well to push on a bit just to keep things going. :X
As it were, perhaps they were on a suicide mission of sorts. While that pungent smell of bear lingered all around them, so did the natural scent of the marshland. It was hard to distinguish just one smell from another there and so for all they knew (and didn't), they could have been following the wrong bear. Yet Pasha was certain of their cause, and the thoughts that plagued Jorunn did not occur to him. Their trek was slowed and tedious; he tried to keep things in focus as he watched his footing through the tricky terrain.
Jorunn's voice came to him then; his ears flicked back to listen momentarily as he came to a more solid portion of land to pause.
"I guess we could," came his answer, though it were laced with uncertainty. He eyed the bog before them and wondered if the bears could already smell them. Did they already watch them from the foggy underbelly of the land? He looked behind them, seeing past his brothers before settling his focus between them.
"But not too much, yeah? You know Mom'll be mad if come home with them and we're all stinky and dirty." Though entertainingly enough, he wondered if the latter half of their litter would be just as dirty. Provided their family had come through there.
To test such a theory, he lifted a muddy paw and smeared Whittier with it. The application was not an easy thing; there'd be no painting one another and looking all fierce here.
"Jorunn, you should go first since it's your idea. I wanna see how you'll look," Pasha went on to say after a beat, withholding a laugh though the mirth was more than evident in his expression. Try as he may to be serious and all adult-like, Pasha could not resist the fun of getting muddy.