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Night fell in hues of violet and prussian blue, casting long shadows across the flat expanse of the Barrens as Warning set out from the shelter of Homewood. He'd gathered enough experience travelling that he knew the nighttime cool made the barrens easier to bare but increased the likelihood of running into predators. A dire rat or two he ought to be able to handle on his own and he probably wouldn't meet a cat beast. If he did, he'd be able to see it a long ways off. All this flat ground left nowhere good to hide. Besides, cat beasts preferred hunting from treelines and scaffolding, where they can get high above you and pounce. Out here they'd have to try Warning in a foot race.

And if there was one thing Warning excelled at, it was speed.

Not that he was empty headed enough to go running about the barrens needlessly, it would be a long journey to Grandfather Tree and Warning was in no rush. He needed to keep his wits about him and his footsteps steady. He set out at the break of dusk with a belly filled with water and nothing else to weigh him down. Night was in full inky blackness when he reached the plateau, letting the meager starlight and sliver of a crescent moon help him scale the steppes.

Dawn wavered pink and rosy behind the tree, illuminating its white bark with sunset fire. Warning raised his head to it, eyes glimmering, and forced his tired feet to bring him those last few steps closer.

"All I have to deliver is myself," he whispered and bowed his head. "I'm here to receive any message you might have for me."

The stink of putrescence assaulted Warning's nose, forcing him to jerk back, snorting noisily in the quiet. He snapped his eyes open to find himself no longer in the shadow of Grandfather Tree, but perched precariously on a peat mound within Blackbriar Bog, reeking fog rolling in around him. This was... unfortunate. Warning frowned and took a step back from the gurgling murk. No sense in taking a risk and flopping face first into that mess. Warning traveled to the bog the absolute least. Almost no one live out here, and therefore was no need to spread news or deliver messages. He'd navigated the place only once in order to deliver a basket of healing herbs to a strange old adept that made their home out here. He was proud to complete the task, of course, but he'd spend many hours bathing in Homewood's rivers to get the stink off his coat.

Perhaps this was why Grandfather saw fit to send him here? To somewhere unfamiliar to him?

Warning squinted though the fog, his tail twitching as he scanned the nearby area. Something large and dark loomed in the murky water, too far from Warning to get a proper look at. He glanced down at the swamp lapping angrily at his little island. As much as he disliked the swamp, he wouldn't walk away from something potentially important. If this turned out to be a log or some discarded Other technology he'd be quite miffed! Warning tiptoed to the edge of the peat and stepped into the water. It was deeper than he'd hoped and the further he went, the deeper it dropped, until he was swimming with his chin barely held above the muck.

The black water remained impenetrable to his eyes, revealing only a glimpse of some wavering white shape beneath the silt. Warning could observe three things about whatever rested at the bottom of the swamp: One, it was large - too big for him to be able to carry up to the surface on his own. Two, it was bone pale, which could very well mean it was a bone or bones, the skeletal remains of some Vykeli native long passed. Which meant it would be important. Three, it was deep. Much too deep for Warning to risk diving out here on his own. It was easy to get stuck on a grasping branch or losing your direction in water as thick and poisonous as this.

Which left Warning with an important task. Bring this news back to Homewood and gather a party that could properly drag the thing, whatever it might be, out of the bog. With the firm determination of a job to be done, Warning wheeled himself around and headed back for the peat mound. He wasn't even certain this was the correct way to exit t the bog, with no memory of how he got here to begin with, but something felt right. Returning to where he was placed originally. The sense of rightness was as deep as he bones and Warning let the feeling carry him back to his little island.

The swamp carried on for ages, further than he could see through the choking smog, but that was fine. Warning had a message and he'd stop at nothing to deliver it.