Hoshor Plains to bring us sugar and tea and rum

IIiiiii’m just gonna say the hunts are still ongoing.

Seal anxiously waited at the edge of camp and watched a cloud of steam rise from the distant herd. They ran. The hunters chased! Even from here, Seal could hear their bellowing cries. The cold wind carried the scent of fear; the scent of blood.

But was it wolf or bison blood? It was difficult to tell. The healers were ready to admit any injuries into their halls.

But hours passed, and the stress had begun to take a toll on young Seal. She stepped away from the front lines. It was then she heard a familiar voice.

Seal followed the water, upstream from the camp, until she saw Frolic’s familiar goldenrod pelt.

Others from Brechelient had joined the hunt, but Frolic hadn’t been a part of them – not that Seal was surprised. Her friend was an adventurer who couldn’t be roped down.

“Frolic,” Seal exclaimed, a bit frazzled. She trotted right up to her side. “Did you just arrive?” she asked, though it was clear half of her mind was preoccupied, attention focused on the harrowing hunt.