Neverwinter Forest carry me down the mountain, water,

Another day of patrolling the borders stretched on ahead of him. It was not unpleasant work by any means, but he knew where he would rather be.

It had occurred to him that, if Seastorm smelled like him, then he probably also smelled like Seastorm. Which meant that his scent, noticeable on the borders, might also carry hers. That made moving her deeper into the territory a moot point, but he didn't see how he could change any of this. They'd just have to be vigilant.

Well — he was doing that, now. And he'd spotted something just a little out of the ordinary: two bucks had locked horns, and now they were stuck. Or, rather, one was stuck. The other was dead, neck bent and twisted oddly as its living counterpart tried to get away. Catamaran stood nearby, fascinated by the spectacle of it. Something had already begun to eat the dead deer, but the living one was pristine — and steadily growing weaker.

The pelt was a perfect candidate for the task Callyope had assigned him.