Broken Antler Fen it's a sunny and relaxing holiday

Just tagging for reference; Sprig's a worrywart and therefore obligated to fret about the lack of tracking devices on everyone  ;P  If only y'all had cell phones he could put those spy apps on! Hah.

Restless paws had turned from white to brown, with the proliferation of mud all about. But unlike Mumble Sprig had other preoccupations. Most of which seemed to be skyward, from the direction of his frequent glances. Frequent enough, in fact, that his mud-slicked paws stumbled into and then over an antler-like branching stick of his own; he might have caught his balance if it wasn't for the smooth brown goop coating his rough pads. As it was, it was probably a mercy that no one was close enough to watch him go splat.

A somewhat disconcerted Sprig pulled himself up again with a bit of a grimace and looked hastily around, and then up again. Okay, yeah, no signs that he'd been spotted, at a quick glance... He tried to give his forepaws each a quick shake, but how much grippier and cleaner he managed to make them in the process was questionable. It was certainly more than made up for by the liberal spread of mulch across his bony chest. He didn't want to waste any more time, though; he picked up his pace and trotted posthaste in the direction of the others, black-backed ears flickering as they quickly started to pick up the comforting sounds of his family's voices.

Thought maybe I could find @Tanto, he said, flicking his eyes toward the party's rear flank again. That bird seemed to have been developing a little more of an independent streak than Sprig was entirely comfortable with of late, at least in the nervous wolf's mind. Golden wolf-eyes skittered across the budding branches overhead on one final pass before turning from one familiar face to another. The smile that began to cross his face as he relaxed and looked at Mumble evaporated even more swiftly as his eyes went past his fellow "elder" and then scudded more hastily from one canine to the next. And wait, where's @Cali? Sprig managed to stop himself from biting his lip but it was a near thing as his eyes roved restlessly among the trees again, this time nearer the trunks' base where a young coyote presumably might be more likely to be found. His paws couldn't stop themselves from unhappily lifting and shifting his weight uncomfortably from one to the other however. At least until he placed his left forepaw down and it skidded a little across last year's dilapidated leaf litter—though at least this time he didn't pull another faceplant.

Sprig took a deep breath in and jabbed his front paws out before him more firmly into the earth. There, that was a heroic and confidence-inspiring stance, right? One hoped. I think we should stop here for a little while, he said, raising his voice to project well out across the entire group, and in particular Smudge who looked apt to let her paws carry her off elsewhere next. He wouldn't put it past one or another of the girls to claim that oops they just hadn't heard him otherwise. He suppressed a bit of a shudder: I think treacherous waves and buried temples can wait for a bit. Or maybe, y'know, forever. Just the mental image of such hubs of danger sent chills down his spine and put his fur on end, after all. No place for vulnerable youngsters to be hopping about recklessly expeditioning, especially since they apparently couldn't even keep together in open woods when he took his eyes off them for a few measly minutes.