Not Nearly There Yet

Gaius ponders the arrow which Terence has made.

No doubt it means something.

He will seek a second opinion.

Gaius walks back to the bird hide.

Remembered where you left your pencil? asks Vello.

No, says Gaius, but Terence has left me an arrow. Come and see it.

Can't, says Vello. I'm in the middle of texting the office.

I'll come and look at the arrow, says Kierkegaard.

Gaius returns to the arrow, with Kierkegaard.

Are you sure it was left by Terence? asks Kierkegaard.

These are his footprints, says Gaius.

There are one or two visible footprints, with toes.

And look! says Kierkegaard. Bird footprints, going off in the same direction.

Gaius peers at the bird prints.

One of us should follow, says Gaius.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. Me or you?

You, says Gaius. You may borrow my phone. Call Vello, if there's a problem.

Very well, says Kierkegaard.

He takes Gaius's phone and starts following the footprints, which soon become fainter.

I'll continue in this direction, thinks Kierkegaard. And call out his name.

Terence!

Terence is not far ahead. He hears him.

So does the emu-wren.

MAN! says the emu-wren. Keep your head down!

Okay, says Terence. Are we nearly there yet?

Nearly there yet! scoffs the emu-wren. We can't be nearly there YET.

Kierkegaard crashes through the understory.

There you are! What are you doing?

Keeping our heads down, says Terence.

You and who else? asks Kierkegaard.

Me and him, says Terence.

But him is not there. Him has hidden under a soft water-fern.

He was here, says Terence. He's taking me to the School Swamp.

Whatever for? asks Kierkegaard.

To find Gaius a pencil, says Terence.

Kierkegaard laughs. He had not expected that answer.

I'll come with you, says Kierkegaard. Where is this School Swamp?

The emu-wren decides that the MAN is not threatening. He emerges.

Follow me, says the emu-wren.

Terence and Kierkegaard follow the emu-wren.

Kierkegaard hums, and fingers the phone in his pocket.

Until recently, life has been uneventful.