Lost Creek Hollow walkerworld 2.0

He didn’t mind that particular nickname, often thrown at him in jest. But there was that slightly hostile edge to it coming from Zephyra’s lips, unless he was imagining it. Bushtit didn’t have time to discern anything. She took the out, swiveling on a heel and leaving.

Bushtit licked his lips, pondering that brief rendezvous for a moment or two. Then he remembered the nearby steppes of water, his dark gaze flicking over them. Zephyra faded into the back of his mind as he walked a little nearer. The water ran, though it was edged with plenty of slippery ice, and that kind of put a kibosh on climbing the spring.

Guess you’ll have to come back in the summertime, he mused to himself, eyes wandering to the spot of trees where Zephyra had gone. ‘Cause if you slip and fall, she’s definitely not going to come back, even if she hears your cry for help, Bushtit mumbled, snorting a little as he continued his exploration.