Swiftcurrent Creek little puppet made of pine.

Fig had anticipated that she’d continue to follow him, but still he found himself wondering why. The memory of her had come back to him now—he was trying to convince a bird to come home with him to befriend Fenn and she had caught him at it. He’d been embarrassed, she amused. Perhaps she wanted to see him humiliate himself in front of her again? Rather high stakes this time, though…

He was going to ask, but he stopped dead in his tracks. It was there. Just ahead. He could hear it grunting and growling to itself as it feasted on something. He could smell blood and hear bones crunching. Fig hesitated, wondering if perhaps this was actually unnecessary. What if he got them both killed? Or horribly injured? But what if they left it alone and it came back to Emberwood. What if his sister had pups the next time it came.

Fig glanced over at his companion, giving her one last chance to back out, ”You’re sure?”