Kintla Flatlands For just as Every Seed holds the Power

"They're called penguins," Easy replied, pleased to be able to share something the girl did not already know. "Good eating. Very fatty."

Easy hadn't thought of the chipmunk in a very long time. To be honest, I kept forgetting about it even when Grayday was meant to be walking around with it on his shoulder, so how can we expect Easy to remember? Either way, it had been so long ago now, and she had been so young! that she, too, had to wonder what it had been like.

"I will surely keep that in mind," said Easy, thinking that this was the most useful tidbit she'd shared thus far. It might help in a hunt, one day — could a chipmunk be trained to dart through the trees and scout ahead of a hunting party? "Look."

She crouched in the snow-crusted grass and pointed ahead with her muzzle. There was a small group of pronghorn up ahead, most of the lying at rest. One seemed to stand as sentinel, while another grazed nearby.

"Are you hungry?" Easy asked, shooting a grin at Everest. She hadn't eaten since before running into Warsbane, and she'd been quite active, by then.