The morning sun slanted through the high canopy of Bestiary Mountain Forest, painting golden beams over dew-flecked leaves and very, very exhausted squirrels.
Raven rubbed his eyes, crouching beside a semi-conscious scout squirrel that had just delivered another failed report.
The tiny creature hiccupped and collapsed into his palm, gripping his thumb dramatically like it was whispering a final message.
"Still no trace," Raven muttered, shaking his head at these overdramatic squirrels.
Clara crossed her arms beside him, brows furrowed. "We've checked four quadrants, twenty-two trap sites, three illusory fog zones, and one squirrel disco rave—don't ask—yet no Siris."
Jessy tilted her head. "Wait, there was a disco rave?"
"I said, don't ask."
Alex emerged from a nearby bush with two squirrels perched on his shoulders, their tiny vests stained with berry juice and trauma.
