Otter Creek You would have to be half mad to dream me up

It was too easy to slip inside his own head now and let his paws walk without conscious effort. Without Arielle there to voice the steps they must take to protect themselves in the mountains, who knew how many of them Aventus would forget? He might walk directly into the Saints' jaws without so much as a bath, if not for her guidance. He followed her lead, trailing after her while he continued to silently grieve the loss of his mother. He didn't make for good company these days, and wished he could express how fiercely proud and grateful he was to have her with him.

When she spoke, Aventus mentally began to go through a list in his head. It will take more than that, he said, his voice like an echo in his ears, like it came from someone else's mouth. We will bathe first. Then we must accumulate other smells, smells not associated with Akashingo or Ursus. Dying grass, dirt, sap from trees. We need to smell like travelers with no affiliation.

It might make sense to use strongly perfumed plants for a greater effect, but Aventus believed the Saints were too suspicious for that to work. We can't smell like we're trying too hard to hide our own, he said, following Arielle into the water. This time of year, it was frigid. The chattering of his teeth was instant. We should smell like each other, he suggested, ignoring a sudden heat that crept up into his throat at the thought of sidling closer to the fierce medic. Like close traveling companions that eat together and sleep together should smell.