Moonspear rumors

its such a mood

She nodded toward the preferenced pick, and followed west of the mountain. She wondered if they were simply a wandering flock, as Desdemona remembered that wasn't many rivers or streams in the mountain, much less a lake which is they preferred (so she thinks). Though they were quite delicious, she hasn't met many who didn't enjoy a nice goose for a lunch.

Taking the lead, she lurked low to the ground, her large ears perking high to the sound of their squaking, and nose pressed to find any scent of them. The trial was getting closer as the two went forward, and so the guard stopped. She flickered her nose in a direction where one could hear the rustle of wings and quacking of scwabbles; they had found them.