Herbalists' Cache beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

They still hadn't found the man. No sign or scent or spore. The panther burned to taste his blood, if only to see Chakliux's quest completed. And to know that his newfound family was just a little safer, of course. But, if he was honest with himself, he felt sure that the evil one was long gone. Why would he stay here, knowing that men would be hunting him?

It boded well for their women.

It did not bode well for the seal hunter's spirit.

The panther stretched his legs alone on the taiga, remembering carefree days of youth in the land of long nights. The vastness of it made him want to break into a run, but instead he worked methodically to pick up traces of that old and oily scent. He was not surprised he did not find it — he was surprised to smell a young girl, instead.

She smelled of a pack, but he had passed it already. Perhaps this trail was her returning to safety, but perhaps it was not. Dutch followed it to its terminus out of an abundance of caution, and was both relieved and exasperated to find the girl all alone at the end of it.

He stood for a moment, watching the sad slope of her shoulders.

"I wonder, sometimes," he said, speaking loud enough to announce himself, "if the birds like to watch us back. Do they find us as pretty as we find them?"

He hadn't heard what she said, but he had seen the bird. He thought it better to accuse her of bird-watching than moping. Bird-watching was something he could offer to do with her.