March 2nd; Late afternoon; Cloudy, slightest of drizzles; 52 ° F, 11° C
Being "home" for even the briefest of moments was always nice. For the past few weeks, Sawyer had been relishing the meet-up between him, Sharlee, and Oleander. A reminder that he had a safe place to return to when he needed it. Between the nice spring weather and watching the rolling clouds, the rogue was having a hell of a time. Sawyer had had enough. It was either now or never when it came to figuring out when was a safe time to head north.
Beneath a double rainbow-streaked sky, the Archer ventured into the Vale of Secrets. Getting this far had been tough. He had traversed this path twice now, carrying in his jaw the last of his loot for the wolves of Fools Gold Chasm. Chest heaving and saliva dribbling down the right side of his face, he rejoined the rest of his offerings. The half-dug cache had proven to be enough; he had only been gone for a day at most while he made a second trip.
Half-lidded eyes counted the objects with care, hoping it would suffice. If grace was on his side, maybe his absence and delay would even be excused or dismissed. He would have to see.
At only a few wolf-lengths away from the place where Adelard had marked, Sawyer was already in a good place. A few summoning barks were offered, special delivery...