01-24-2020, 09:08 PM
Sierra procured them another hunt, but Tristan was in better control of his faculties this time. The smell of the kill did not incite a frenzy. He took the time to spark a small fire in order to at least warm slices of the meat. The remainder was shared with their 4-legged kin or discarded for the scavengers.
Then as he was clearing the fire of its final heat, a strange scent flared his nostrils. It was like a long-lain log kicked from its place in the creek. It was of moss and mushroom. Yet a floral aroma was intertwined. It was something of old age, but not death.
He studied the distance as though he expected eyes to be peering back from among the trees.
Then as he was clearing the fire of its final heat, a strange scent flared his nostrils. It was like a long-lain log kicked from its place in the creek. It was of moss and mushroom. Yet a floral aroma was intertwined. It was something of old age, but not death.
He studied the distance as though he expected eyes to be peering back from among the trees.