Indru had allowed Heartleaf Creek to wend his path completely; following it loyally along its bank as he ran at a gentle lope since morning. This was not an aimless run, nor one led by the fear of being parted from the now precious and depleting water, it was for a mission Indru had taken upon himself — for his pack and home — to solve the mystery of the water. He had watched it rise and fall in level depending on the depth of that portion of the Creek and even in some places it seemed to disappear altogether, a worrying thought as it meant the Creek no longer could be relied on to bring them water any longer. But why? What had changed? It was nothing overt, he was sure, as it would of been solved by now and the issue a distant memory.

Once the Creek broke through the tangle of trees and proceeded to led him through Thicket of Secrets (like he knew it would) Indru's pace slowed considerably. He was limited to crawling over, under and through the various obstacles that blocked his path, making his once ground-eating run impossible here. As another branch snagged on his fur, pulling out a clump of it as a trophy, Indru cursed lightly under his breath for what felt like the hundredth time, for once resenting the enclosing and claustrophobic forest he used to adore. After running the better part of the morning Indru's mouth had turned dry, his head slowly beginning to throb and his leg's beginning to feel weaker underneath him and again, like a litany, he cursed — this time the lack of water for limiting him much like this forest. Yet he continued to persevere, as he would until the Creek was flowing again.