listlessness // herb patrol

Her jaws part to taste the air, however all she can firmly discern is the snow and tarmac before them. Gifted with a patrol to do some herb gathering, Cottonfang (it's... her name now,) finds herself poor in new herbs. She almost hoped that the heat the monsters produced as they raced by would've kept some of the - chervil, or tansy even, from wilting, but as they trot along, she finds nearly nothing. Nothing of note, at least.

Cottonfang internalizes her defeat and frustration before turning to the rest of the patrol, "You lot can go ahead and try to hunt, if you'd like," she murmurs, ears folding back. "I'm... going to keep looking," for something, anything. She cannot leave empty pawed.​
 

\╱╲I SEE A RED DOOR & I WANT IT PAINTED BLACK╱╲/
Being so close to the thunderpath was enough to keep the tunneller on edge. Every few seconds he found himself casting his gaze towards that of the tarmac as if expecting a horrid monster to come barrelling their way. The acrid stench burned the inside of his nose and it left him yearning for the familiar darkness of the tunnels far from the thunderpath. Though despite his fears and desires to be elsewhere he wouldn't abandon the patrol.

The small tom quickened his pace until he was finally able to draw up alongside Cottonfang after she announced that they could go hunt instead. He would leave that to the moor runners as he doubted that he would be of much use to such a task given the location. "I'll stick with you, Cottonfang. I... um... have a keen nose, I might be able to help find something." Just anything, really. It would be foul luck if they had to trail back to camp with nothing to show from their efforts. "So what herbs are we looking for?"

NO COLOURS ANYMORE I WANT THEM TO TURN BLACK
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