The trek through the mountains slow going as the Lost take measures to cover their tracks, Abraham doing his best to break up their cluster as the blessings of Spring paint the trail in splashes of life like flicks of an emerald brush on the dull canvas. Supplies are burned through on the first day and a half, energy bars and water going to sustain hunts and foraging. Animals are almost nonexistent, the quiet as oppressive as the heavy mist. Titania eventually has to abandon her boots at risk of falling or rolling her ankle. She avoids the risk of cuts with tricks of the trade, though restoration of the soles of her feet eliminated any developing callouses that would have protected her from discomfort. Wind and rain cycles throughout the day, bearing down on their stamina that is alleviated with proper shelter preparation.
Everyone contributes in their own way, Sonnie's playful nature evaporated when lapsing into the rhythm of survival, the Beast being the primary provider in all manners of wild bounty. There is a small bout of food poisoning that is quickly resolved with the Totally Legitimate Doctor. Abraham and Circe find the Hedge's amalgamation of animals incredibly wily and skittish, their lack of subtle approach only catching the sick and thin. One particular squirrel was memorable when the peeling of the hide revealed thick orange worms, that had threaded their way through the sinew like an aggressive slime mold. Stealth is out the window, the lack of noise magnifying their missteps and cracking twigs in the bush, with Sonnie eventually giving up and going alone with Samuel. Titania's wisps are left to dance excitedly around the camp. At one point Abraham is almost lost in his venture to track a ghostly buck, most of the day wasted scrambling to reunite with the Fairest before the Hedge took him for an extended trip.
By the end, everyone is starting to get a little hungry, the sources getting more and more alien. Circe's gun misfires when she tries to take out an impressive looking doe with moss and thyme coating her back, and she could swear she hear the quiet mocking laughter buzzing in her ears. Eventually, Samuel produces a handful of shards and snaps them as if it were smelling salts. The effect of the Token is jarring, as black veins of corruption burst around the nasal cavity and his eyes turn pitch in a shocking outline of his skull. He finds food. Lots. With the inevitable questions, he explains he can see and track the scent trails with the chemical, not appearing to register the alarming nature of his survival measures.
The fourth morning (Samuel apologized profusely) is greeted with the camp surrounded in a circle of fresh blooms and resting milky butterflies. Snow is falling in their immediate surroundings, the Mantle all the more obvious. The peacock is already up and scouting, clearly stressed from the timing and having developed a limp in his normally graceful posture.