The faun gave a shiver at the tickling feeling of the dryad's fingers through his hair, his haunches jiggling until a puff of chestnut brown hair drifted down to the ground. His ears twitched until Crann moved away, wrinkling his wide nose at the brush of her lips on his forehead. She smelled like moss and sweet sap, while he smelled like fur and the crushed grass that stained his fetlocks.

Jimmory hopped up on one of the exposed roots of her great oak, his hooves clacking woodenly againts the gnarled surface as he balanced his way along it, for no other reason than the fun of it took his mind off the problem, if only for a second or two.

[color=f7976a]"I haven't seen anyone. But I didn't want to get close all by myself. I saw an elk, and it should have been dead. There were so many maggots, Crann! And it didn't even seem to hear my music."[/color] He motioned with his hand at the v-shaped drone flute hanging from a thick leather strap across his bare and slightly furry chest. [color=f7976a]"I [i]don't[/i] like seeing the glade like that, Crann."[/color]

Jimmory was obviously reluctant to join her and waggled his tail uncertainly as he watched her pick up her staff. But in the end he followed her, pausing at the shrine to dip his hands in the cool, clear water and slide them back over his horns so that they shone wetly for a time. It seemed a ritualistic gesture, but he didn't comment on it.

[color=f7976a]"If we're going back there I need to find my bow. I left it...somewhere."[/color] He glanced around thoughtfully, sticking close to the taller dryad.