Sun Mote Copse Smash a vintage vase a day

Pox was stopped shortly by Wraen, who appeared to be far less riled up than he was. He blinked owlishly at her, confused by why they weren't charging ahead, even as she explained the answer to that very question. She seemed to think it unwise to go in unprepared. She seemed to think they would get eaten.

The boy scrunched his face up in a frown. Patience was not something he was well practiced in, but his affection for Wraen stayed him for the moment. "No... Buh we gotta get da pesents," Pox explained, as though the roles were reversed and it was his caretaker now that needed his guidance in this matter, "I won' let him catch me, I pomise. I'll go so fast, he won' catch me, an' I'll get da pesents an' we make him da snack." He added the last with a daring little smirk.

He gazed hopefully up at her. I mean, how could she argue this perfectly logical plan?