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Lagomorphs
Copyright © August, 2015, FurryWurry
All rights reserved

Chapter 34 -- Search

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Sky led them down the hill toward the distant stream, careful to stay under the cover of the trees.

"Sky?"

"Hmm?" The Rab was concentrating on where he was putting his feet on the steep slope.

"Are there many Raptors? Is that why we aren't just following the path?" Jeff was sure that'd be a lot easier.

"Yeah, that's why. There's just the one pair, but they're bad enough. They usually have one chick. All three leave in the fall. Then the parents come back a couple of years later. They must leave their chicks somewhere else, thank the Makers. But they're back now. Quiet. I hear something."

All three Rabs crouched, their ears angled toward the woods. Jeff couldn't hear anything, but knelt with them. The way their ears twitched they must be tracking something.

After a while the Rabs got up. "It's gone. Not sure what it was. Not wolves. Come on," and they continued down the slope.

It probably was about a mile down to the stream, a lot shorter than it had seemed when Sky had brought Jeff to the Warren. Of course, going down was a lot easier than climbing, especially at this altitude. Even so, he guessed it took them almost an hour to get down to near where he'd met Sky. The Rabs were cautious.

They crouched in the shrubbery at the edge of the woods, looking out over a large open area near the stream. "Here's where I hid. We found a strawberry patch over there." Sky waved toward the southwest, upstream. "The Raptors came from up there, I think." He pointed toward a hill to the northwest, on the far side of the creek. "So Runner musta gone the other way." Into the trees along the stream. There was a hitch in his voice.

They all waited quietly for a while, watching the sky. A few small birds flitted by, but there didn't seem to be any large ones: no hawks gliding on updrafts and no Raptors looking for prey.

"Comon." Sky led them quickly across the open area, into the woods, down to the waterside. They found Rab paw prints in the dried mud.

"He was here! He came this way after the storm!" Sky was delighted.

"But where'd he go then?" Diver wondered. The paw prints were confusing. They were smeared and overlapping. Some obviously had been washed away, too.

"Maybe across to the other side," Swimmer suggested.

"Maybe not. We should look around. Try to find some more prints. You two look upstream. Jeff and I'll look downstream," Sky ordered.

They spent at least a half-hour looking fruitlessly. They didn't even find any strawberries.

Finally Sky called to the sibs, "Let's cross over. Look for prints there."

They quickly found a path after splashing through the water, but it looked like only grazing animals used it. There were were plenty of hoof prints but the only Rab prints were the muddy ones they left themselves.

Sky stared at the hoof prints. "Can't tell if he used the path. Too many deer."

"Why would he come this way?" Jeff asked. "The Warren's the other side of the stream."

"Confused maybe. Scared and turned around. It was dark. He went this way; I'm sure." Sky stared down the gentle slope that wound between the steep-sided hills of the central caldera. "I just know it."

The Rabs proceeded, following the path but not using it. Jeff trailed along behind as they slowly worked their way though clumps of trees and, more quickly, across open, grassy areas. None of the trees had branches near the ground: apparently the grazers found them tasty, but that meant Jeff couldn't climb up to get a higher perspective. It was frustrating. It was supposed to be his hunt, but Sky was doing all the work. Maybe that was for the best, though. Hadn't Cloudy said he might get despondent? This kept him busy.

They took a lunch break near mid-day. Jeff guessed they'd only covered five miles or so. Going through the patches of trees was slow, but the Rabs, well, Sky mostly, insisted on doing that whenever they could. The hunting party stayed mostly under cover, hidden from Raptor eyes. Except for the scare at the beginning, though, there didn't seem to be any wildlife. Jeff didn't understand it. He remembered reading how the caldera was home to many different types of animals, and the chewed tree trunks were evidence of deer and elk. All the hoof prints they'd seen in the trail meant there'd been plenty of them in the area just a couple of days before. Sky just shrugged. "Sometimes I've seen lots of deer and rodents. Sometimes not. Dunno why. But I've only been out hunting strawberries a couple of times."

Diver obviously was exhausted. They might be strong, but that didn't mean the Rabs had much stamina, and Diver finally admitted he hadn't slept at all the night before. "I had other things to do!" was the only explanation he gave. Swimmer just snorted.

"Didn't you know how long a walk it'd be?" Jeff asked.

"Well, not really." Diver seemed to be embarrassed. "The farthest I've ever been from the Warren was the lake. That was a long time ago, when I was a kit."

"Lake?" Jeff didn't remember any lakes on the maps he'd looked at before coming on vacation. They had shown a large pond, though. It would have been downstream from where they'd crossed San Antonio Creek.

"Yeah. It was really big and deep. That's where I got my name. I dove in to get some sparkling rocks."

Swimmer chuckled. "Right. Dove in. Don't let him fool you. He slipped and fell and I had to help him get out. He was a real mess, all covered with mud. It took me three full days to get him clean again. He really stank."

Diver sulked for a while, but quickly nodded off. Sky sighed. "I'm tired too. Jeff, can you wake us up when the sun gets down to there?"

"Sure." It'd be about an hour, he guessed. Twittering birds kept him company, although most of them were hidden high up in the trees. All three Rabs grumbled when he woke them, but Diver was particularly rude, mumbling something about a bare-faced worm. A glare from Sky shut him up, though.

The rest of the afternoon was more of the same: quick dashes across open areas, then slowly creeping among the trees.

As they got deeper among the hills, the Rabs grew more and more excited, especially Sky. "Smell that! He must have come this way!" Jeff couldn't smell much of anything other than the spiciness of the pine trees and maybe something that was just a little rancid.

As the sun neared the western horizon, Sky finally let Jeff lead the way. The Rabs were getting tired. The way had gotten more and more constrained, too, so it wasn't as if he'd lose his way. The steepness of the hillsides around them made it obvious where Runner must have gone. It'd be hard to climb the slopes. Not impossible, just very tiring.

"You really shouldn't be going this way. It's dangerous. Folk who follow this path don't come back."

Jeff stopped abruptly and the Rabs crowded close behind him. A bipedal canine had stepped out from behind a large pine. It could only be a Shep. The newcomer looked like his ancestors might have included Border Collies. Lean, he had long fur covered with large black and tan spots bordered by white. Like the Rabs, he wore nothing but a colorful loincloth. What Jeff hadn't expected was the spear he was leaning on. Taller than the Shep holding it, it had a sharp metal blade.

"We're looking for a missing cousin. We're sure he came this way," Jeff offered.

"If he did, you need to forget him. He's gone. He's been Taken. This is one of the paths that lead down to the Lower Darkness, where the Demons live. You do know about Demons, don't you?" the Shep asked mildly. His upturned tail was waving slowly.

"I've heard about them. I've never seen one, though."

"Those who do usually don't live to tell about it. Most Demons, if they See you, that's the end of you. Those who've been Seen just let themselves be Taken. We don't know why. They don't even try to get away. So don't let yourself be Seen. Turn around now. Go home to your Warren, Rabs. Forget your cousin."

At the last he'd been looking past Jeff at Sky and the two sibs. He turned his attention back to Jeff.

"You're no Rab, though. Where are you from? Why are you helping them? They're just going to get you into trouble."

"My name's Jeff. I'm from way far to the East. I was lost and the Rabs took me in, so I'm trying to help them find some lost cousins, one in particular."

"I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you, Jeff. I'm Scouts-the-Way. You can call me Scout." He sniffed the air. "Your friends are from the Strawberry Warren, aren't they? Their Grands are irresponsible, always sending their best bucks out to find strawberries. We're getting tired of chasing them back home. There are always some who get past us, though, and most of those get Taken. I'm sorry, but if they haven't come home on their own, you aren't going to find them."

"But we have to!" Sky burst out. "We've come all this way. Runner's my [i]friend[/i]. Family! We can't just leave him lost somewhere! Can't you help us find him?"

Scout looked at the Rab sadly, his tail drooping. "No. I'm sorry but we can't. We've Lost too many of our own folk trying to rescue Rabs from Demons. We can't keep doing that.

"Look, it's starting to get dark. Why don't you come with us to our camp? We can talk some more there. We've got a fire. That'll keep Demons away tonight. Then we'll take you back home in the morning."

While they'd been talking, two more Sheps had appeared quietly behind them. They were surrounded. The newcomers had spears, too, although their blades were flaked stone. Properly made, flaked obsidian blades could be sharper than the sharpest metal. Theirs looked to be properly made.

Scout led them through the trees, up the hillside a little way. He finally stopped when they'd passed a rocky outcrop that blocked the line of sight back down to the path. Nothing on it would be able to see them. Or See them. Jeff thought they'd probably be safe if they kept reasonably quiet.

A younger Shep was tending a small fire. Unlike his elders, his fur was mostly white but with a scattering of brown spots. Turning on a spit was what looked to be the dressed carcasses of two large, four-footed rodents. Prairie dogs maybe? Melting fat popped loudly as it dripped into the fire and the delicious odors made Jeff's stomach grumble. Loudly. It had been a while since his lunch of raw parsnips and carrots. The Rabs obviously weren't as happy, though. Diver in particular looked like he'd be turning green if he could. It seemed unlikely: Rabs were enough like rabbits that they must be physically unable to vomit.

"I'm sorry we don't have any vegetables. You're welcome to share what we do have, though. They should be just about done, I think." Scout sounded sincere, but the Shep must have known that the Rabs would turn him down.

"No, thank you." Sky obviously was doing his best to be polite. "We do have some vegetables. We'd be glad to share them with you. Would you like some onions, maybe? We have some carrots, too."

Jeff's stomach gurgled again. Stew. Roast onions and carrots. Oh, my. But he was no cook. All he knew about roasting vegetables with an open fire was that they somehow were wrapped in leaves and left to cook under the coals. With his luck they'd come out charcoal.

"Maybe we could toast them over the flames? Give them some more flavor?" Both groups looked at him, appalled, doubtless for different reasons. "Well, [i]I[/i] like cooked veggies, even if you guys don't. Can I have a stick?"

Wide-eyed, the young Shep handed him a green branch, thin enough but not pointed. Maybe he'd originally thought to use it for their catch but discovered it was too flexible. It obviously wouldn't stab through an onion, though, let alone a carrot.

"Thanks." Jeff pulled out his pocket knife and sharpened the stick. He was soon crouched and turning an onion in the flames, letting some of the grease drip on it. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth. His furry friends just stared.

"Jeff, Gemma was right. You're weird." Sky shook his head, shuddering, ears flopping. She must have told them about the mushroom balls.

Toasted onion went quite well with roasted haunch of rodent.