11

20 0 0
                                    

    We stop soon. With a nod Thawpad leaves me. I stand in the clearing for a while. Then I pick up the scent trail of a squirrel. I gingerly pick my way through the trail, skirting around bushes with terrifying and bright ladybugs and leaping over flowers with gruesome butterflies.

(OLDish) Entomophobia; a Warrior Cats short storyWhere stories live. Discover now