Pollen

He'd taken to the river, sure that it would aid in his escape. No scent to follow, no tracks.

He hadn't know about the pollen that coated the water's surface. Deep still waters, he only just kept his chin above the suface, dusted with the fallen flowers of the unnamed trees that lined the river banks. Every breath filled his lungs with the sweet pollen, every breath choked his throat, filled his nostrils. Sneezes threatened.

What was worse was the trail he left behind, the empty waters, the absence of flowers that he left in his wake.

He could only hope the trees would release more before the hunters came upon his trail.