Duck Lake Pop goes the weasel

It was fresh enough that the scent was strong on the breeze. The blood a dark red, and not a dried smear on the dirt ground. Rex tilted his head to the side, and then to the other. He was no medic, nor had he ever sought the healing field. His tail swished.

Rex’s ears swerved back. The unease of eyes upon him drew a hint that he was not alone in his discovery. Some might have been unnerved by the polar bear that marched to his side. Rex was fascinated. His pumpkin orange eyes lit with curiosity, mirroring the bright and inquisitive nature of the companion who found him.

Hmm, I’d say so. He beamed, gesturing towards the bloody pawprint with a wave of his forearm. Someone is hurt.