Otter Creek Bennu

The deer scent had carried him across the stretch of ground surrounding the mesa, east toward the mountain range that jutted imposingly from north to south. The hunter had tracked the deer prints and had tasted the faintest scent of their small herd. He had hoped that he would stumble in on their sleeping quarters and that he might surprise any that sought to bed down.

At the creek, Bayek stepped into the water until it sloshed to his forearms. He bent and drank until he thought his belly might burst. The tightness held him there for a few minutes before he waded out of the creek and shook his coat. The Mazoi could hear birds chirping in the trees overhead.

The scent of deer could not be found. Bayek huffed, disappointed.