Pollen’s hands worked anxiously. She was on a mission, one building for a while, now, one she was second-guessing her preparation for. With new lessons placed within her, she knew just how to go about this, to keep everything in check- with note-taking. The muta’d gone through and asked for Rodd’s final episode once more, ready to study again with a board, paper, and charcoal in her paws.

She’d started to recognize the show for propaganda, but it was still effective, wasn’t it? The dubs were suspicious, but they could be saying things people didn’t want kids hearing, so it seemed natural. Pollen wouldn’t want to have heard some of the stuff she’d figure out later as a kid. Like, hey, violence is kind of scary for little ones? The irony of her still being a kid somewhat was lost on her as she settled into the seat, board in her lap and attention glued right to the screen.

Rodd’s abrupt ending gnawed at her. It gave her nightmares as a kid, thinking he could be being tortured for a long, long time. That seemed a little silly now, but nightmares never usually make sense anyways. Following the strands- if they even existed to this day, now- could help, maybe. Some closure was needed for this chapter of her interests.

And so, as the theme blasted through the dim theater and as Pollen took in all the events, she began to note down what she found important.

starts tracking in orion
mint smell
food cache maybe
two tunnels one cave
snowy tunnel rocks (ursa)

If someone taught her about question marks, there’d be a lot all over the page. Like, what did he mean by mint cave? Maybe they just stored mint in the caches and used them to spice their food. Or, he could just be bullshitting for the audience. It’s still a show, after all. As the next scheduled showing began to play across the screen, Pollen sat back with her knuckles at her mouth, jaw tensing in thought.

She needed a map.

Rocking up, Pollen made her way from the theater at a casual pace, quietly thanking the imp at the concessions as she passed. She hadn’t gone for any food this time- her gut was rolling enough as it was, and she really didn’t need that right now. No, she was hungry for knowledge. Determined, she strode through the Palace, her pace quickening as she neared the library.

The wooden doors opened without much care to silence. Pollen slipped through and shut it behind her, barely paying attention to her surroundings unless they were scrolls of paper. One was close, and she reached out to snatch it and lay it on the closest table, placing down the slab and paper to its side. No, this was writing, and the muta’s lips drew back. Where was a map?

Pollen, disappointed, rolled the scroll back up and placed it to the side. Her gaze cast up to the bookshelves, looking for any form of paper. Hm- there, among some encyclopedias. It was too tall to reach herself, but she could try with magic. It was good to keep it in practice, anyways, and she channeled through her gem and up to her vines and- nothing. No response. Dang it.

Sighing out roughly, Pollen went in search for a ladder, finding out propped up against the wall. It was hefty when she went to pick it up, and she rumbled as she almost fell backwards, managing to find her balance to maneuver the ladder to the shelf in question. Wood connected with wood with a dull thunk, and Pollen began her clambering ascent, wobbling at the top rung. She just needed one second. Reaching hard, she strained, paw outstretched before managing to knock the paper out from its resting place and down on the floor.

Ok, good, now she just needed to get down.

Her descent was even faster, her paws missing a rung once with a slip. Her hands gripped the sides of the ladder in a brief panic- okay. She had to go slower. Carefully descending the ladder, Pollen dropped back to the floor and scooped up the roll, carrying it to the table. It threatened to curl back up once she laid it flat. That’d be a pain. Scooting her board to one side and a nearby book to the other, Pollen kept the paper flat and perched her top half over it.

Okay. Orion, Orion… there. Pollen tapped a finger to the words on the faded map, keeping her eyes down at it. So, he went to somewhere cold from Orion, then, passing through two tunnels and a cave. Slowly, Pollen’s finger traced a path from Orion to Ursa, passing through Polaris and two tunnels labelled I, then B. So, Tunnel B? She remembered that tunnel- where could someone even ambush someone in there? Was L cold? Which one was that? Closing her eyes, Pollen lifted her head as she tried to recall the memory, and-- no. No snow around Gemini, she was pretty sure. It was sort of warmer around that region anyways, with Canis and Leo and Hydra and all.

So, no, not L. E? Too many tunnels. He didn’t go through Ursa. Unless he was exaggerating for the sake of-- no, people would’ve been able to recognize the tunnel. B was still the most likely. Where would you even start, though? There would be no trace of his existence, and where would they even drag him? It’s not like she’d seen any of the beings that jumped him in the present day, anyways, and with despair Pollen propped her elbows on the table and lowered her head into her hands.

This was impossible. He probably wasn’t even alive. Ugh. Why did she care so much about this? Sucking in a sharp breath, Pollen straightened back up and glared at the map, a lip gathered in her mouth as she worked at it in frustration.

She needed to find someone who knew him. Master Vargas knew him, but she’d be bothering him, and he was a Master. Miss Aethril? No. She had her own business. If that cameraman was still alive, she could go for them, but no. Collector? Something swam in the back of her mind about that person, about doing things for him in exchange for… things? It was a lead, but Pollen was uncertain. He could take advantage of her, have her do something, and then withhold information. Ugh, this was frustrating. Who even made the Rodd episode, if Rodd wasn’t there to make it?

With so many holes in her plan, Pollen left the map for the time being, picking up her notes and finding a chair to settle in. Alright, let’s go over: mint, rebels, tunnel B. She added the last to her list and circled it. That’s where she had to go. That’s where it would start. But with a whole tunnel to search, how could she even find a lead?

Rumbling, Pollen rolled her head back, her antlers nocking over the top of the chair. This was going to be a long search.