Swiftcurrent Creek everything the light touches

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He took his eyes off of her for a minute, just to watch the beavers. They were big things; bumbling, fat, slow -- and they sat on the bank, or the piled sticks, gnawing eternally at bark. When he looked back to where his partner had been settled in wait, she was gone.

Anxiety seized him then. He raised his head and broke cover with haste, trying to find her. It wasn't until he spotted some movement on the shallows that he saw her stalking hastily to a new location. The fur on Tryphon's spine prickled with nervous energy. He awaited the presumed ambush, staring intently at the last spot he'd seen Israel standing...

And out of nowhere she came, running and splashing, kicking up a storm of icy water as she snapped at the beavers. Some dove for cover beneath the water's surface. Others, the unfortunate ones that were poised atop their dam, couldn't scurry for safety fast enough and had to try and outrun the girl. Tryphon swallowed his nerves and made a mad dash for them.

He was briefly reminded of his failure with the turkeys, and the efforts he'd made to hunt with Dagfinn. But he wouldn't let those thoughts lead him astray - he raced after the bulbous rodents and grappled at them, grabbing one by the neck and snapping it easily, and then another he pinned with the bulk of his weight by the tail. The second one turned and hissed at him, terrified and desperate, but he sank his teeth greedily in to it's compact face and felt the satisfying crack of bone.
 
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