Swiftcurrent Creek Amazon

his mother's answer, admittedly, was not the one that jet wanted. and the worst part was, he'd known better than to ask. still, he had and was met with her directive: get sniffing and the smart of disappointment that he'd set his own self up for. survival warring with being a typical teenager made for an ... interesting concoction.

he bows his head as he walks, picking up several scents right away. the creek's territory was ripe with them: ranging from small woodland critters to bigger prey. it was proverbial buffet wafting towards him.

he is torn between the scent of duck, leading him towards the creek and the scent of a raccoon; fresh, having passed thru the area they now walk very recently.

there's raccoon scent trail, real fresh, he states it aloud: simply for the fact of telling her that he was taking it more serious than his grumpy demeanor and soft, teenager perfected scowl might communicate. but the ducks like to rest along the creek bank. and it would be easier to catch them before they got into the water, especially as the days grew colder.

the raccoon might offer more meat. and with that his mind was made up, slotting the ducks as back up in case he failed to catch the raccoon.