There's an art to life's distraction, to somehow escape the burning wait, the art of scraping through
With the way she had to curl in upon herself, the only sense left to Hester was her hearing, and it was a poor shield to wield against a born hunter. Still, that doesn't mean she doesn't strain her ears, hoping that maybe, she'll get lucky. And maybe it's simply her familiarity with the ice, the noises it makes, but she catches the faintest scuff, just outside her little niche, and curls up tighter. For a single, breathless moment, she thinks maybe, she's gotten away with it, maybe she's tricked Chuy.
Then a large paw came down on her side and had her jumping to her feet, legs all akimbo. A spooked laugh echoes through the bond, each little hoof stomping in succession. You got lucky. She shot back immediately, no small amount of amusement in her own words. She straightened out in the space provided to her, then began counting, making sure to drag out the numbers as long as possible while the big cat sprinted away.
She reaches ten and trots out of the little space herself, looking back and forth for any evidence of the other attuned. There is a little trail left by the speedy escape, but it tapers off to nothing quickly. Hester doesn't have any particularly strong sense, any way to track down anything, but she does have one strength. Finding the tallest ice plinth she can, she begins to work her way up it, hoping that a higher view will present some missing clue. Sure hooves carry her to the top of her chosen shard easily, and from there its simply a matter of looking around, looking for something that seems out of place.
It takes a few passes before the marks on a nearby ice pillar jump out at her, belying some kind of mad scramble upwards. Bounding down from her high vantage point, Hester approaches the pillar and rises up on her back hooves, the front pair holding her upright against the pillar. I can't climb this, but you're up here, aren't you?
Then a large paw came down on her side and had her jumping to her feet, legs all akimbo. A spooked laugh echoes through the bond, each little hoof stomping in succession. You got lucky. She shot back immediately, no small amount of amusement in her own words. She straightened out in the space provided to her, then began counting, making sure to drag out the numbers as long as possible while the big cat sprinted away.
She reaches ten and trots out of the little space herself, looking back and forth for any evidence of the other attuned. There is a little trail left by the speedy escape, but it tapers off to nothing quickly. Hester doesn't have any particularly strong sense, any way to track down anything, but she does have one strength. Finding the tallest ice plinth she can, she begins to work her way up it, hoping that a higher view will present some missing clue. Sure hooves carry her to the top of her chosen shard easily, and from there its simply a matter of looking around, looking for something that seems out of place.
It takes a few passes before the marks on a nearby ice pillar jump out at her, belying some kind of mad scramble upwards. Bounding down from her high vantage point, Hester approaches the pillar and rises up on her back hooves, the front pair holding her upright against the pillar. I can't climb this, but you're up here, aren't you?
Hester
