Heron Lake Plateau orange spaghetti sauce

Polaris was a pretty tight name, though Bat didn't say this out loud. Instead, she glanced away from the guiding star altogether and practiced trying to pinpoint it again. She probably looked utterly ridiculous—one eye screwed nearly shut, tongue pressed stoutly into her cheek, big ears flapping with each turn of her head—but she wanted to make sure she could find the damn thing on her own.

She paused her efforts when her instructor said, "Here, watch this." When Bat saw him rearranging pine cones, she took a step back and then threw him an apologetic smile. Just like Wildfire before her, she was, "Allergic," she explained, though she didn't go far. She could still see the diagram in the snow, which she peered at studiously.

After that, Bat looked from sky to pine cones and back to the sky again. Only at length did she turn to Phox, almost sheepish, and admit, "I think I've got Polaris down... but I'm not seeing any bears."