Mudminnow River Lost

Something strange was happening in this place. Noises, sensations, rumblings from the ground. Merrit had a mind to return to Easthollow and root himself at home until the tremors passed; there was no apparent danger in the shaking, but something simply felt off. Unsettling. Dangerous.

But as he moved toward the distant slope of Stone Circle, he found himself distracted by a different sound - one that could make Easthollow wait. A cry, he did not recognize the voice, but he pivoted his ears and feet toward this someone who sounded as young as Leta without a second thought.

He found her by the river, alone and clothed in shadow. Merrit stalled where he was, and moved no closer, for fear of spooking her. Where were her parents and caregivers? Where was her pack? Was she a child of Lost Creek Hollow? Perhaps. He ​lowered himself to the ground, acutely aware of how tall he was, and a gentleness he reserved for his siblings alone stole through his eyes. "Little one," he said, his baritone voice soft and understanding, "I am Merrit, of Easthollow. Are you lost?" whether she lived at the Hollow or not, the evidence she procured in her cries of distress proved enough to tell him this.