and strike the nail against the flint

As he took the lead in a different direction, Echelon fell into step behind him. What he had in mind she would soon learn, as it was not too long into their journey that the trail left behind from the felled creature became evident. The buzzing of flies on left behind blood and entrails were her first signs past the sickly sweet tinge of death on the air. Something like this would have no doubt drawn attention to them eventually, but as they pressed onward to begin covering the trail, she noted smoothly that this close to the Spine the area remained disturbed only by the past and their present venture.

Further out however, the scents that clung to the passing foliage told her a different story. Tinges of vagrants came to her senses. They were of the canine sort, though she did not distinguish whether or not they were of wolf or coyote. The gender was indeterminate as well and useless to her; these scents were stale. Whoever had passed by had rooted around uselessly before deeming it a risk too high to make. It was there that she paused to scent the ground again, the action concluded by her scattering the loose earth and growth about.