Whitefish River between two points

In thinking that he could avoid being followed by hugging the river, Tiarnan began to creep closer and closer to it. The river stones made more noise when disturbed but they left fewer traces behind - or so he thought, without really thinking about the accuracy of such a thing. His claws clicked upon the stones, occasionally being licked by the river's coursing fluids; he felt the chill of the cold water as he slunk, collecting a wetness upon his extremities which then peppered the ground - and any dry rocks - with patterns. The fool was really making matters worse by trying to stay hidden. Anyone with a bit of sense would be able to track him.

The stones weren't all clean and smooth either. Some were jagged things, unpolished by the water. Others had a collection of moss clinging to the surface that, when wet, were trickier to step on. It was in a lurch for freedom from his pursuer that Tiarnan slipped upon a series of stones. His angular body stumbled awkwardly and the boy fell face-first towards the river. In a scramble to keep himself safe from the current, Tiarnan tried to brace himself and reverse in a flurry of action - kicking a few stones loose and in effect, falling on his shoulder instead. There was a mild pop as his body connected to the ground and he yelped before gritting his teeth.