Whitebark Stream displaced

The river somehow seemed lifeless and still, despite it continuing to flow ever onwards, carrying with it dead leaves and scorched bark. Its surface was occassionally dusted with clumps of what looked like snow, and Redshank leant down to sniff curiously at one floating by. But by doing so he accidentally inhaled what was actually an accumulation of ash, and reared back with a choking, spluttering sneeze. Yeah, no thanks. He'd stick to investigating things he knew, not whatever...this shit was.

With a cursory, sweeping glance, Redshank surveyed the area to make sure he hadn't any witnesses to his mistake. He froze when he saw the greyed out form of another picking his way down the hillside. The stranger didn't seem unfriendly in his approach, though the Cairn still backed away a few steps with a soft rumble, unsure.