Between his breakneck pursuit and sudden stop, the sentry felt suddenly heavy and tired. He didn’t resent the hyena her scepticism, though; it was quite a claim to make, having seen a God galloping through the forest.
Somehow Quinn had held a sliver of hope that he’d blink and the stag would reappear. It was only demonstrated in the slump of his shoulders when she called over her shoulder that the stag was gone. He swept one more long gaze over the forest, now streaky through the rain clinging to Quinnat’s eyelashes… But the keen-eyed Sentry saw no gleam through the branches and heard no hoofbeats; no scintilla of the stag was left, only the downpour and the crashing of the nearby river.
He wasn’t to be left disappointed for long, though, as the sheltering hyena revealed her trade. Quinn's features brightened.
“I'm Quinnat - Quinn. A humble Sentry myself. But if anyone can help with figuring this out I’m sure it’d be a Shaman!” He bobbed his head before creeping under the fir tree with bent elbows, turning until he was laid on his front with one forepaw crossed over the other. Curiosity burned in his gaze; he tried to downplay the intensity by staring hard at the rain and his opening gambit emerged abruptly nonetheless:
“What can you tell me about redemption?”
Somehow Quinn had held a sliver of hope that he’d blink and the stag would reappear. It was only demonstrated in the slump of his shoulders when she called over her shoulder that the stag was gone. He swept one more long gaze over the forest, now streaky through the rain clinging to Quinnat’s eyelashes… But the keen-eyed Sentry saw no gleam through the branches and heard no hoofbeats; no scintilla of the stag was left, only the downpour and the crashing of the nearby river.
He wasn’t to be left disappointed for long, though, as the sheltering hyena revealed her trade. Quinn's features brightened.
“I'm Quinnat - Quinn. A humble Sentry myself. But if anyone can help with figuring this out I’m sure it’d be a Shaman!” He bobbed his head before creeping under the fir tree with bent elbows, turning until he was laid on his front with one forepaw crossed over the other. Curiosity burned in his gaze; he tried to downplay the intensity by staring hard at the rain and his opening gambit emerged abruptly nonetheless:
“What can you tell me about redemption?”