cache

[Grand Moff Hissa]

((Hector Quayle continued from damn))

This many trees would make it easy to get lost. It would also make it hard for someone to find what you didn't want them to.

Hector was making marks with rocks and broken branches. His path wound three hundred feet into uncharted forest, took a turn, and went on another fifty. It was easier to make a cache here, because he could use not only snow but pine needles to disguise what he'd done.

The whole time, he kept an eye above. He didn't think this island was big enough to support cougars, and couldn't imagine how they'd get here, but assumptions could be deadly. He spotted none of the telltale signs, though, no herbivore limbs hanging from branches, no scratched trees, no scat.

Once he was done with his mission, he had only about six pounds of meat left on him. It was all he'd need in the immediate future. The rest would keep, and when he wanted it, he knew where it was.

Satisfied, Hector turned and eyed the mountain again. The heights were calling.

((Hector Quayle continued in Chop Chop))