"Something."

A leaf is plucked from the earth, carefully, almost gently, and lifted up to a pair of dark eyes. They study it closely, a shadow falling over them as whoever these eyes belong to frowns.

They all look the same…

A quiet sigh.

One way to see.

Eyas looks around, then squints at the tree tops, their whole face scrunching at the brightness far above. Quickly, the critter lowers their eyes, then glances up again and, just as quickly, down again, as if the momentary action should somehow yield an entirely different result. With a grumble, they center their gaze somewhere ahead instead and slowly raise the leaf to a stream of light falling through the canopy. The sun has not reached its peak yet and the air feels cold, dew scattered on the leaves, and the grass, and the critter's tail.

They turn the leaf. In an instant, it seems to take on a hundred color variations, all subtle but that much brighter in the morning sun. The dew drops blink in a vibrant dance, one after the other, and Eyas can't help an almost-delighted hum.

Like little fish, they play…

"Another one", is what they say instead, carefully folding the leaf and reaching into one of their pockets. They fumble for a moment, producing a small pile of various sticks, leaves and nuts, as well as two feathers and a weird gnarled root. A few smooth pebbles spill over the forest floor as well. Eyas instantly kneels to collect them, not without another grumble, and makes sure to put them in a different place this time. They only let go upon reaching the bottom of the pocket, checking if there's any holes for the pebbles to spill out of again.

A hum; nothing needs fixing yet.

Just as they're about to get their paw out, one claw latches onto something. With ease, they pull it out.

There you are.

A short piece of string, frayed and thick, is not given so much as a look before being wrapped around the folded leaf, secured with a knot and shoved back into the pocket.

That dealt with, Eyas slowly stands up and grabs onto a low-hanging branch, almost as an afterthought. Their mind is still elsewhere, stuck on the delightful image that leaf created, and they stay still, careful not to lose it. 

The little fishes are now joined by a school of tadpoles, twinkling in silent laughter as they give chase, forming and breaking shapes and babbling among themselves: of what, Eyas could not imagine. For a moment, it's as if the surroundings no longer existed for the critter, pulled into a daydream where they themself, too, are nonexistent. Guard lowered and attention elsewhere, they would hardly feel a presence other than their own…

(anyone is welcome to join, regardless of whether Eyas knows them or not. keep in mind that this is probably somewhere around Inland Road, since that's where they usually hang out)

Bzzzzz.

That fish is more green than silver...

The sudden, unwelcome buzzing gets no acknowledgement. 

That fish is not silver at all... It's kinda just, gray. 

Bzzzzzzz.

A flick of an ear. The high-pitched buzzing stops, for just a moment. 

… 

Then, within seconds, it is back, even more relentless. Eyas flicks their ear again, the corner of their mouth twitching in barely-contained annoyance. Still, they stubbornly refuse to move from their spot, clinging to the comforting image. They close their eyes. 

But the damage has been done. The image grows blurry, little fish and tadpoles losing their color and floating just barely out of sight, pale and unfocused. Maybe, if they just concentrate again… 

Nothing. A rather rude word pops into their head instead, before even that gets overtaken by the loud buzzing. Great. Now all they can think about is if there's some type of magic to keep the mosquitoes away. 

Finally, Eyas gives up, a sour grimace overtaking their face as they open their eyes and fully turn to glare at the persistent mosquito. It pays no mind to the critter's frustration, happily landing directly on their nose. They huff and shake their head, letting go of the branch and glancing up again. To the critter's credit, it seems they weren't carried away for that long, after all. The sun has barely moved up, and they didn't feel too tired or hungry yet. If they kept moving now, they could still manage their intended route before dark, or some unexpected weather change.

Right. As much as they'd gladly spend the whole day like this, there were things to do. The kind of things they'd much rather do in this sunny, rainless and fogless weather, with the rain-induced illness, tripping-and-slipping-on-the-wet-ground-induced injury and finding-nothing-because-they-can't-see-anything risks significantly reduced. Eyas shakes their head once again, letting their frown ease a bit. All that thinking of forest streams and flowing water made them painfully aware of the dryness in their throat. Perhaps they could circle back to the river? Or find some puddle in the forest. That was probably less time-consuming and absolutely less guaranteed.
...

...Which direction did they even come from, again? They could've sworn the sun was to their right. Or was it left?

They trudge on, attention once again overtaken by various scrounge and herbs they might spot. They'll probably get somewhere anyway, eventually. And if they do end up going back, well... There was plenty of time.

Cordweed. 

...

Inkberries. 

...

What even is this.

The trip is not very productive as far as scrounging goes, but Eyas doesn't mind (too much). It took the critter long enough to get the hang of things. They were thrown into a new environment in the midst of the coldest season, after all. Just thinking of these long, snow-filled days made them shiver. Many things have changed since arriving here. Most of these changes, Eyas is grateful for. 

Still, even now, having mostly adjusted to the new place and with the added benefit of it no longer being covered with snow, they struggle to notice some things or tell them apart. To make up for their spotty memory and imperceptiveness, they've taken to making notes on different types of scrounge and herbs. Their only setback, aside from neglecting to organize these notes or compile them into a single book (and a bunch of other related and unrelated problems they prefer to ignore), is never remembering to take these notes with. Eyas figured it's fine, even safe to stick to the basics. Such as...

More cordweed... 

And more buzzing. Eyas quickens their pace a bit to escape another small cloud of bloodthirsty insects.

The greenery around is a blur as they focus their gaze on the ground. Whenever something catches their eye, they stop and kneel to take a closer look, squinting at whatever that is. Today, it's mostly the type of stuff they've been trying to get rid of for weeks, collecting dust in piles back at their burrow. That only reminded Eyas of how much they still needed to do. Proper organization, selling stuff, getting more stuff... Some furniture could be nice. And new clothes. The state of their never-dyed scarf is pitiful, and their makeshift cloak has clearly outlived its usefulness pretty much the day they arrived here. 

Too harsh... 

Maybe it was. The cloak is still functional: they've sewn on many pockets. It also makes them feel just a little safer. Tracing the crude little embroideries they'd made always brought a sense of calm and familiarity. Still, it was meant to be a temporary solution and barely did anything to protect the young scrounger from even the slightest cold now. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to look presentable, for once?

Head once again filled with thoughts, albeit more practical this time, and eyes fixed on the ground, Eyas barely processed what's ahead until it hit them. 

?? 

Fur going up in an instant, they jump back, as if burned. A heavy feeling claws into their chest out of nowhere and the critter is swiftly reminded of just how much they'd prefer Not to get caught away from the main roads by someone with bad intentions. As much as they've (mostly) managed to avoid dangerous encounters, the one time they didn't was enough. Maybe if they were a wiser critter, they would learn their lesson and become less careless.

For a moment, their mind races over different possibilities of who it could be. When the white flash of fear fades from their vision, their eyes finally focus on what is unmistakably a very familiar badger.

Oh. It's just Azalev.

Eyas blinks and nods in greeting, panic leaving their face as quickly as it had come. It takes another moment to abandon the defensive stance though, and they quietly clear their throat before muttering a short greeting.

"Hi." 

Eyas then blinks once more. Their mind starts working again, trying to remember if they ever met their friend this far from the library before, let alone here, in the middle of… Well, they're not quite sure which exact area this is or how far they'd managed to go. Now that they think about it, shouldn't there be some familiar landmarks at this point? The brief moment of distress left them even more disoriented, not to mention a little embarassed.

The meeting is not unwelcome, but Eyas can't help getting curious now.

Scrounging?

Remembering that (most) critters can't read minds, they repeat the question aloud.

"Scrounging?"

The very on-brand observation gets a light huff out of Eyas. They mumble a 'thanks' with a serious nod, then frown sympathetically at the next words.

"Ublucky..." 

Clumsy Mellic rolls off their tongue out of habit. To their credit, they've improved quite a bit over time, though simplest words often gave the most trouble. It was mostly manageable; they could always just repeat the word and hope it comes out right the second time. And when someone else's phrasing missed their ears, asking was an option, too (and probably better than guessing in some cases... that was another lesson not fully learned yet, but they were getting there).

Eyas reaches into one of their pockets and pulls out a small bundle, holding it out for the badger.

"Got berries," they explain. "...not much, else. Today."