Keep Moving Forward

Crysta stood still for about three minutes sorting through the different scents that invaded her senses, ignoring those she didn't need at all. Scents like the scent of soil and everything that lived inside it or rotting bark.

She focused on what mattered, the scent of fresh bark, which she only focused on when it got too strong to keep her from crashing head-first into the surrounding oaks.

The wind would tell her where the scents were coming from and allow her to adjust her course.

Soon enough, the delta was travelling blind, following her intuition and trusting her judgement of the scents she had to work with. She followed the faint trails of items' scents.

Sorting through the different scents was nearly impossible but Crysta didn't have a choice. She found that some of the times she picked up on a trail, it turned out to be feint… a wisp...