A Different Part of the Preserve to Everywhere Else, Thursday Night
Spending time alone in the Preserve wasn't what Aslan had in mind when he'd sent Edmund back to Fandom. In fact, very little had changed since then and all of it had to do with Edmund either being stubborn or Not Getting It (TM). Every now and then, Edmund would pack what he needed for a few days and would disappear into the woods that seemed bigger on the inside than the out. This was one such time.
That was why Edmund had no idea that the undead were making their mark on Fandom (again) and wasn't aware that there was any trouble at all on the island. The exception, of course, being Reno's ferret who Edmund was sure was out to steal all of his socks. He hadn't caught Mako stealing the socks, but the socks kept disappearing anyway and no one else came into the room (and Reno and Edmund didn't have the same shoe size, so it couldn't have been him).
It wasn't the nicest weather to be out in the Preserve, but he'd spent the last few days wandering, marking down notes about what was where, climbing trees, reading a book he'd brought along and picking rocks out of a bubbling brook he'd found. He'd tracked some wildlife too, not with the intention of hunting it (he had food enough to last him), but to keep his skills up to date. He read over the intelligence reports that came from Narnia as well, always with a furrowed brow and a worried look off into the distance as he tried to plan how to deal with these events back home even though he was a world away.
Every now and then, he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye - a bush rustling when it shouldn't have, a misplaced shadow, something that wasn't quite right. Edmund explored and found nothing and continued on. As he walked, he couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder, feeling uncertain that what he'd seen had just been his imagination.
That was why Edmund had no idea that the undead were making their mark on Fandom (again) and wasn't aware that there was any trouble at all on the island. The exception, of course, being Reno's ferret who Edmund was sure was out to steal all of his socks. He hadn't caught Mako stealing the socks, but the socks kept disappearing anyway and no one else came into the room (and Reno and Edmund didn't have the same shoe size, so it couldn't have been him).
It wasn't the nicest weather to be out in the Preserve, but he'd spent the last few days wandering, marking down notes about what was where, climbing trees, reading a book he'd brought along and picking rocks out of a bubbling brook he'd found. He'd tracked some wildlife too, not with the intention of hunting it (he had food enough to last him), but to keep his skills up to date. He read over the intelligence reports that came from Narnia as well, always with a furrowed brow and a worried look off into the distance as he tried to plan how to deal with these events back home even though he was a world away.
Every now and then, he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye - a bush rustling when it shouldn't have, a misplaced shadow, something that wasn't quite right. Edmund explored and found nothing and continued on. As he walked, he couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder, feeling uncertain that what he'd seen had just been his imagination.