Larksong Grotto taken away to the dark side

Scimitar trailed after his son, surprised by the pace he did bound forward with. His own gaze remained upon the shadows of the foliage before them, deciphering whether or not the threat lingered and remained concealed.

Pasha was more or less on the trail, and the cinnamon Frostfur was both proud and leery. His own nostrils flared as he tracked with his son, though attempted to pretend he was simply following dutifully behind. The scent was certainly fading -- an indication the culprit was long gone, and Scimitar began to ease once more. Once Pasha found the spot they had stood at, not far from where they had stood, the regal gave a nod of agreement to his son. "Good work," he commented, allowing a smile to pull at his muzzle. "What was it?"