Haunted Wood success is not given it is taken

*be's difficult*

Her scent he could not pick up, for the wind was not in his favor, but his ears were not merely sharp in their appearance, and they fanned backwards as they detected the faint sounds her paws made as the travelled toward him. He turned broad side to her and stared, his ears erected on his head with interest. She studied him, and he studied her as she perched on the roots of an oak. She was small, and her features... His eyes narrowed in careful scrutiny. No, she was not one of them. His tail twitched idly, and without a word he turned, and continued his walk.