Night Scent Trail

I was sick of lurking under that dusty picnic bench because staying trapped in one spot is exactly what Darius and those irritating campers would want, so I followed a strange sweet smell creeping across the cold grass toward an old fallen yellow tennis ball half-buried in the lawn, and when I gave it an aggressive nudge with my snout it was soggy and heavy with garden dew, so instead of fighting a wet fuzzy rock in the dark, I planted both feet firmly over it to claim it as my private scent marker for the night.