Macee's Hunt

She knew it would be big. It was a damned city! She knew it would be big! But this? This was just unnatural!

Dozens, if not hundreds, of streets cut narrow alleys between the tall, peak-roofed buildings. Small plazas and courtyards are scattered haphazardly but frequently across the city, many of which contain pools or fountains. Magically lights of every color and description bathe the city which seems to sit in perpetual twilight.

Macee grumbles and squats in a small green space behind a market, thankful for some elbow room and quiet at last. She scruffs her main in frustration before shaking it out. She offers a toothy grin to a pair of passing mages whose eyes linger on her for just a little too long...

She watches with an amused chuckle as an enchanted broom and dustpan float by. She quickly fishes one of her finished apple cores from her bag and throws it in the path of the magical cleaners. The broom jolts to a halt and, with a quickness that catches her completely off guard, swats her across the snoot.

With a surprised yip, she hops away from the broom and snarls. The enchanted tools, deciding they are lovers and not fighters, quickly return to their patrol.

She rubs her nose and frowns. Kan has been gone for three days! Three? Four?! Fel! “It’s always just blue o’clock here!” She growls, turning to squat behind a shrub. She had followed Kan closely enough behind that she imagined finding her friend would be easy, but she was wrong.

Dalaran, even if it wasn’t the magical capital of Azeroth, would still be home to some of the most secretive people alive. For as confusing as the streets above ground are, it pales in comparison to the warren of tunnels and paths hidden below ground.

Macee is about to tip onto her side and take a pity nap in someone’s garden when her nose twitches. The tart aroma of her favorite treat catches her attention and, for a moment, she forgets about her frustration. She scrambles to her feet and inhales deeply, her keen senses straining to isolate the scent.

She begins to pad through the streets, her nose held high as she dials in her target. She turns left then right and left again, each time getting closer and closer to the wonderful smell.

It is as she rounds the last corner that she stops dead in her tracks, her nose twitching frantically as her eyes grow wide. Mixed in with the apple smell is something else, something she hadn’t experienced in a few days. It was the smell of flower-scented hair and chocolate, mixed with a few old books. It was Kan.

Macee feels her heart skip a beat as thoughts of Kan flood her mind. The unmistakable smell of home, her home in the form of a person, was here and she had to find it! The promise of apples forgotten she turns and begins to hone in on Kan’s scent.

She follows the trail for almost an hour, stopping now and again where the scent is strongest, where Kan and likely stopped or lingered. It doesn’t take Macee much longer than that to realize that while she can’t pinpoint where Kan is she can deduce a few things. First: she clearly made it safely to Dalaran. Second: the scent trail was fresh, as in made earlier that day, so Kan was likely still in the city.

Macee heaves a sigh of relief and slumps back against a stack of crates, giddy with relief. She is still here somewhere. There is still time!

A soft rumble jolts her back to reality, one clawed hand moving to hold her grumbling tummy. Deciding that she can’t be stealthy or find Kan on an empty stomach she returns to following the smell of apples. Just one won’t hurt after all!

As she comes to the end of an alley she exits back into the main street, her eyes sweeping the storefronts and the people filling the street. She is about to move on when her gaze falls on the source of the apple smell. She giggles, the nervous sort of noise a fan might make when meeting their idol.

There, not five feet from her is a treant holding out a beautiful ambrosia apple to her.

*hiccup*

*hiccup*

*hiccup*

Macee giggles deeply, rubbing her belly with both hands as she lays in the grass. More than a dozen meticulously cleaned apple cores little the small park where she is laying, the grinning treant dancing beside her. It’s leaves swish and sway as it moves, adding a pleasing sound and breeze to the impromptu break.

She hiccups again and rolls from side to side, giddy at how full of apples she is. Slowly, very slowly, she sits up and waves to the treant. It returns the wave and, after handing her one more apple, begins to shimmy away.

Macee tucks the last apple into her bag and wobbles to her feet, still giggling and licking her chops. With her apple lust sated she finds Kan’s scent again, much more clearly this time. She wipes her muzzle on her sleeve, slings her pack over her shoulder and lowers onto all fours. Inhaling deeply she springs forward, certain she would see Kan soon.