Bearclaw Valley people passing through me, yes they do

astara learned little from studying nunataq -- the indifferent shrug seemed to suggest the scent was of no danger, and so the girl scratched at the earth quietly, sampling the sundry scents of damp-ground with several sharp sniffs.

while nunataq foraged in the upturned earth for mice, astara continued trailing the new scent. she glanced behind her once or twice to see if her new companion was following, but did not pause long each time she did so.

the scent meandered through bearclaw, and just as the ground gave way to a natural depression, the scent grew thicker. astara paused by a band of winter ferns, noticing a collapsed hollow delved into the earth. it was here the scent was most prominent --practically exuding from the dark hole like rancid breath fogging a mirror.

she sniffed around the hole attentively, her ears firmly cupped forward in interest. whatever the scent was, its owner was clearly within -- all one had to do was step under the threshold of rotted tree limb and frozen earth, to see just what it was...