Redhawk Caldera On the trail of a loony klepto.

”Once, at Frosthawks. It was a river otter,” Fig explained, remembering. He’d been so astonished to come across the creature while sating his thirst at the river. Larkin had pranced right up excitedly and told him all he knew of the creatures from Liffey. He felt a pang of remorse. He missed the young Frostfurs.

Reyes’s suggestion brought a wry smile to his lips. If they hadn’t scared it to death yet, Fig didn’t see how they might accomplish it. ”Know any good ghost stories?” he asked rhetorically.

Fig was also not prepared for the otter’s sudden escape. He too sprang, but was a hair slower even than Reyes. He darted after it though, once again returning to his thought that perhaps their best bet was to just drive it out rather than kill it, seeing as it appeared to be faster than them.