Hanover Fist

 Keep your eyes open, your ears tuned, and your nose to the wind. That's the advice Swampy gave me when he taught me how to track. I wonder if he knew I'd be sitting in the mountains of India, watching for frogs in the middle of the night.

The researchers we talked to said we don't stand much of a chance now that the monsoons have passed, but that's even more reason to try. The frogs show up during monsoon season. Hmmmm. Could it be because the monsoons are caused by Khrou-ach? How many brain cells does it take to make the connection between the God of Storms and monsoon season?

So we missed monsoon season. There's always next year....if I'm unlucky enough to still be around. And if not, the girls can take care of it. Maybe not Regan, she's not much for the tropics, but Toledo and Mary are definitely troopers.

Toledo actually seems to be enjoying the trip, nibbling on herbs she's never seen before, digging up roots, and chatting with the local fairies, of course. We don't seem to be able to go anywhere without them showing up.

For that matter, Mary doesn't seem all that bored. She's not much for sitting out with us at night, but she talks to the local folk in their own language and writes a lot of notes. She's jabbering on about another book. I suppose she'll expect me to read it. Maybe when I retire. I only wish.

What's that noise? A cat yowling? Great...my luck it'll be a mountain lion.