Otter Creek On the colorful flowers grown upon the dust and moss

As the slowed to a walk Pallas allowed her gaze to trail towards what appeared to be a log, set askance. Beneath it, the unmistakable curl of a tail poked, complete with little crushed web feet. Genius. Pallas watched as Koda extracted the animal: it certainly was a grisly sight to behold. "How often does that work?" Pallas shot, eyeing the dismantled contraption in a way that suggested she was trying to wrap her mind around it. Maybe she wasn't as clever as she thought, but she sure as hell wasn't about to admit it. A sniff of the pancake-rat yielded that it was indeed the same muskrat, and hungrily (and rudely!) Pallas fell upon it with wild gobbles.