It was a clear, beaming, blue sky over the Iron Hoof Grasslands with a small, patchy, rising plume of smoke from the now defunct Pecker Pooper. The endless, calm breaths of air gently carried the smoke high and wide until it melted in to the uninterrupted skyline.
The Iron Hoof Grasslands was simply a beautiful landscape, with the hot glow of the sun beaming down it's warm light on to the ground which allowed for the grasses to grow up to five feet in some areas.
The lands were also dotted with the tall, wiry Banabop Trees which bear the Banabop fruit. These fruits looked unappealing with their dull, mustard coloured skin and had a cringing taste that even the biggest Ronopulous would wince at. They weren't the most popular native fruit of the Grasslands but they were there if needed.
This is where Scrufflejacket and his two remaining crew were now at. It wasn't the worst situation they had found themselves in but it was pretty bad. With the Pecker Pooper out of commission, the crew in a foreign land and the lack of food supplies, things were not pleasing Scrufflejacket.
"Furclaw, I don't suppose you know how to fix this?" Scrufflejacket dryly asked as he turned to look at her.
"Well, I could fiddle around with the parts using my delicate claws, but I would have no actual idea what I was doing. I don't even know how this thing manages to fly," She carried on, "so no...when it comes to anything other than picking locks and carefully pawing out one's goods from under them, then you should probably just ignore me..." Furclaw replied with a blank expression on her small, furry face.
Scrufflejacket turned to Penguin Flipflaps. "Any ideas?"
"Well," Flipflaps began, "there is a way to maybe fix it but we need parts. We need to make our way northwards to Owlhowl City." He carried on, "I think north is...this way." He pointed his flipper across to his right side.
Scrufflejacket sighed. He rearranged his light brown jacket that he always wore and flexed out his ruffled, feathery wings and began walking. His two remaining crew mates, Furclaw Catnip and Penguin Flipflaps followed suit.
The crew made their way through the grasslands, picking up and investigating any food-like object that they passed. Scrufflejacket had clasped up a Banabop fruit with his wing and glanced at it from side to side. He brought it to his nose for a quick sniff and turned to Furclaw.
"How does this smell?" he asked as he gestured it towards her.
Furclaw lifted her small, flat nose slightly and took a quick sniff and then jerked her head away and wriggled her nose.
"It smells quite foul but...it may be edible." She mused with a look of dissatisfaction.
"Better pick up what you can then," began Scrufflejacket, "because this is going to be a painfully long journey."
The crew carried on, picking up any Banabop fruits that they came across. All was quiet as the crew pattered through the grass until was rudely interrupted by a huge, bellowing roar. Immediately, the crew froze and turned to each other. Not one of them was aware of what exactly inhabited these Grasslands, it had all been rather peaceful so far. The sun had been gradually setting and the swathing breezes had been become cold.
Another bellowing roar was heard, even louder than the last, coupled with a now tremendous thudding sound which sent shivers through the ground.
The crew shared a wild-eyed look.
Scrufflejacket covered his face with his wing and dragged it down his beak, letting out a short sigh.
"Why does this have to get even worse..."