"What for? It's the wrong time of day for frogs."
"I'm thinking like a moose."
"Ha ha, right," Jen said, "So what does a moose think about?"
"Food," Nick said, "and their food is in the swamp right now."
Jen went quiet as they followed the trail to the swamp. The sweetish perfume of poplar gave way to the sharp scents of spruce and cedar. Moss and needles covered the damp ground. Nick detected rancid water; they were close. He sat and breathed in the other odours surrounding him. A rabbit holed up somewhere to his right. An owl left droppings over on the other side of the path, probably the rabbit's kin. The strong musk of moose remained from early in the morning, and squirrel.
"Wait here a minute." Nick moved up the path to where the squirrel scent was fresher.
"@&^%!$%^&*" A chatte
