Pax RP

Pion felt a little more at ease now that he was surrounded by tall trees and dense foliage. The sounds of birds and insects was reassuring, a reminder of something similar to home. In his rush he now realised that he had simply followed the path of least resistance thus far, which meant that if anybody was to follow him they would probably come the same way.

With a slightly clearer head than before, Pion felt that it would be wise to either cover his tracks or take a less expected path forward. Covering his tracks wouldn't be very useful if he didn't have anywhere else to go, so the first course of action would be to explore an unconventional way forward that would be hard for others to guess. Only after that could he feel confident that he was not being followed, and then he could take the time to consider more substantial plans.

He approached the stream cautiously. He was wary of falling in, as while he could certainly float, excessive exposure to water was a serious hazard for him. The fallen tree downstream seemed like one way across - it was coated with slippery moss, but Pion had ways of dealing with such a problem.

He approached the base of the tree and used his gnarled finger-like tendrils to dig a small hole in the moist earth, then reached into his rags, seeking his... "Mm?" His eyes widened slightly. This was strange - where was his seed bag? "... No... No..." His hands shuffled through his rags, to the point that he nearly stripped himself, but his prized possessions - his seed bag loaded with plants that he could use his magic to manipulate, and the trowels that helped him to dig through the earth no matter how tough it was - were nowhere to be found.

"NGAAAAH!" Pion couldn't help but let out a primal shriek of frustration, slamming his arms into the mud. He then charged off once more, deciding to simply follow the river upstream as far as he could.

Dante hastily grabbed for the paper bag from the mound of supplies. It was filled with holes and torn in places, but he held onto if as if it were a treasure. He clutched it to his chest, still kneeling on the ground. His eyes were red and puffy from crying; he rubbed at them. He then peered up at the fellow tributes surrounding him, then quickly looked down again, letting out a slow squeak.

"H... Hello," he croaked to no one in particular. He just wanted to greet them. As an afterthought, he quickly grabbed the rope, settling it inside of his paper bag.