Herbalists' Cache perjury and defamation

Spring had a way of affording the natural world a shift in color and consequently a shift in mood. The cache could have been smelled several miles before having reached it. The wind had carried the scent of herbs for a stretch, reaching the inky young ranger and luring him there. Of course, Brave had followed willingly. His lanky gait shifted into an easy trot as he corrected his path and began making his way toward the unfamiliar greenery. Birds chirped from overhead, drawing near to flutter where he could not reach and then off into the cloudy and endless sky. Until they could no longer be seen, his squinted jade eyes followed. All the while, he trotted forward with a sway of his frame – a worriless boy.
 
Once in the cache, Brave found the aroma of something far more interesting. His ears drew forward, cupped intently toward the thickest of the shrubbery. The swarthy young wolf’s whiskers all but quivered at the new scent. Without hesitation, he began to follow and track until he felt as though he had made his way far enough into the densest portions and stepped through to a clear path. Ahead, there was a figure that stood startling contrast to the vivid green backdrop. The pale frame moved almost like a spirit.
 
Without hesitation, the dark voyager barked in greeting. His hope was to pull the attention of the stranger, if only for a moment. Three steps toward the ghostly beast and he paused, peering intently toward the nameless man.