Bearclaw Valley from the spiritual poisons we expel at night

What Toad was doing could hardly be called a patrol- something more like a casual stroll along the borders, purposeless and aimless. Aimless until he caught sight of the blackbird- and his path was altered slightly to meet her.

He did not know her name, but he had seen her at the meeting in the days prior- and so knew she was a friend of Merrick. Toad knew not how close a friend- these things had not been made any clearer by the distance that had loomed between them. He approached with a little chuff to make his presence known as he trotted forward, quietly paying a curious glance to her bone.