and strike the nail against the flint

He followed the stronger trail, their main path. Nose to the earth, he traced their movements as they made their way back towards the Spine. It appeared as though the foxes or whatever it was they were following merely dabbled at their borders and taunted without once daring to climb their protective slopes. He was thankful for this. Where ever the path got too close to their mountain it deviated away before drifting back and turning away once more. They were teasing them. Definitely daring, but not yet committed.

Echelon lingered, resuming his previous endeavors in skirting the perimeter. He glanced over his shoulder to spy her off some distance before he dropped and rolled on the ground in effort to distract from this current scent trail. If he could ruin it with traces of his own, it might not be followed again. Wishful thinking, as he knew scents along were simply familiar and not always a true course. Nevertheless, he was back on his feet. The could continue following this trail, but the scents were thinning and growing older. They'd find nothing here.

He chuffed lightly at her and altered his course. He would be heading back. She was welcome to join him if she so desired or continue as she pleased. Her tracking was good. With her prowling, he knew these borders were safe.

She turned in suit and followed. Together, they headed back home.