mucked it up

Frodo Silvertongue · 07-21-2012, 11:18 AM

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526 // while Frodo's in optime, with Pan present (rat spirit guide). :]

Frodo had no idea why he'd gone this far out. It was probably his gut telling him there was prey of some sort, out here in the worst terrain of them all, but his head kept screaming at him to head back. A less cautious animal would have already tripped or slipped or something of the sort, but the careful footing of a hunter brought Frodo pretty good luck, as he trod, inquisitively, among the dampness. There was nothing of interest he could see for miles, even when he cupped his hand to his forehead and squinted across the horizon. Absolutely nothing. Nout. Frodo said to himself. Zilch. he growled, finding another word for it. But however you described nothing, it really came down to the same thing; it wasn't worthwhile. Talking to yourself? asked a familiar voice, the all-knowing tone something that irritated Frodo a lot, as it could easily be misinterpreted for arrogance. The curly furred wolf turned his head to find his spirit guide slumped lazily on his shoulder. They weren't even friends yet. They hardly knew each other. Yet from the start, the rat had always had a place on his shoulder. Shut it, saucepan. he grinned. Saucepan was his new nickname for Pantalaemon. So new in fact, that he'd thought it up that very second. He thought it suited the rat. Well, sort of.

Pan opened a weirdly realistic (for a spirit) mouth, to let out a protest, but then his eyes faded and he snapped his head towards the east. There's someone there. he commented, rather mysteriously. Something about Pan's tone of voice made Frodo hurry up suddenly, although he didn't know why. He headed to the east, but then realised he didn't actually know why. So? There be some-a-ones back home, too. Dunt mean it's my buisness. he said. Pan replied stiffly. It is your business now. Go and see.

A little confused, Frodo headed toward an even boggier area, and each step seemed to get deeper and slower, his foot taking a little longer to come out of the ground each time. He started to panic a little. Calm. Pan said, and Frodo nodded, focusing on the dry spots and leaping over to them lightly. It helped that he was small. His cloak billowed out behind him with each leap, and he felt cold somehow. He wished he'd bought his bow or something. But he was practically defenceless.

An immense curiosity overcame him finally, as he felt the presence of someone else, in scent and in sight. He spotted a male up ahead, in lupus, fast sinking. He knew the marsh was dangerous, but not this much! Hurriedly, Frodo thought of a soloution, and grabbed a nearby stick. He then used it to prod the ground in front of him to test it's strength before hopping over the dirty turf quickly. Soon, he was looking down at Unatsi, his face screaming of concern. Stay still! he growled, holding out the stick. If there be strength in yer jaw, grab it! With all yer might, sinking one. he paused. If not, yer might need to a-shift first, cherry valance.

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