Last time he’d wandered off like this, Enia had saved the day and found him, even in the thick of that smelly forest. Which wasn’t to say that was the last time he’d wandered off at all, but Bero had set out sometime last night when he couldn’t sleep and he’d gotten pretty damn far. Okay. He didn’t leave yesterday. That was a lie. It’d been a while, and he couldn’t sleep last night, and he thought maybe he’d have more luck looking around at night than during the day.

Which, clearly, he did not.

Bero was no closer to the Secret Woodlands than he was yesterday. At least, he thought so. It was hard to tell, especially in this thick fog. A little sunlight was starting to filter through as the sun neared the horizon, but for all intents and purposes, a cloud had sat right upon the boy and the forest he walked through, leaving him blind only a few inches from his nose. Frankly, he wasn’t terribly bothered by it – at least not until he stepped into the creek. Perhaps he should have been listening, and the rush of water should have warned him, but the mist kept everything muted, and the plunge of rushing water was an icy shock as the gangly cub splashed in, limbs a tangle as he yelped.