#prowl 01

This island was supposed to be peaceful. No monsters, no enemies... but Lucretia of all people shouldn’t forget how terrifying nature itself can be.

While exploring in the forest further inland, she came across an elevated area full of fascinating flora and rocks. In trying to take a sample, she may have picked up the wrong rock-- one that was holding back a bunch of other, much larger rocks.

Oh, shit.

A hastily conjured shield can only hold a rockslide for so long, and she barely pauses to address another person-- some sort of robot? As she passes.

Why did it have to be Prowl?

Of all people to be stuck with on this infernal “Ark”.

Prowl.

Perceptor mulled this over, pacing his room. He felt as if his skin were aflame.

After everything he’d just endured in that hell that was Garrus-9. The shell of Fortress Maximus, barely clinging to life, Perceptor’s own hands digging into the poor bot’s head. So much blood energon—both friend and foe—splattered around him, on him. Shattered red optics above a leering, unfeeling grin.

All for Aequitas, no doubt.

Perceptor came to a stop in front of his mirror, meeting his avatar’s chilly gaze. His thoughts raced through his head faster than he could process them. 

He avoided the deluge of his own unvoiced questions by averting his gaze, returning it to the datapad in his hands. Held his anger, resentment, guilt—all of it—close. He would adapt, as he always does. He would solve this problem, no matter the cost. 

It’s not like he had anything to lose, now, anyways.

With that, he decided to contact Prowl. If he felt condemned by that decision....well, he had to maintain some sort of control over himself, the situation. He had to pursue all routes of information and if that meant pulling information from Prowl—anger, resentment, guilt—then that’s what he would do.

Perceptor’s thumb hovered over Prowl’s name on the datapad for a moment. He considered this, and put the tablet down. He opened his comm-link and pulled up Prowl’s ID.

@800movingobjects

Moonh adjusts her sunhat and scans the ground ahead of her, occasionally pausing to check her local flora guide on her holophone. The bear working at the shop had mentioned to her that she could use her holophone as a guide once she was out in the woods.

She’s looking for fogweed—the Aldebaran equivalent of it, anyway. According to the guide, it’s similar enough to its Dravanian counterpart that she should be able to find it once the woods thin out a little. This part she isn’t having much luck with; the map is topographical but it’s hard to see any topography in the dense forest, and the path she’s on (which seems to be on the map) loops around over itself and is crossed here and there by narrow deer tracks.

Moonh huffs in frustration. Clearly the animals know where they’re going. If only she knew which animal would lead her to fogweed, she could just follow its tracks instead!

Just as she’s starting to consider turning back and asking the shopkeep for clearer directions, her holophone pings—a proximity alert. And there it is! Ahead of her, the trees are spaced further apart, letting bright sunlight flood the forest floor in concentrated beams like spotlights. Like spotlights pointing to fogweed.