Swiftcurrent Creek just follow the smell

The growl stopped Bazi dead in her tracks, lower her tail and ears submissively. She had almost forgotten that it was a wolf she was tracking, and didn't clock that the intensifying smell of decay meant that Lecter was near. "Wait -" she blurted out, "You're the medic." Or voodoo high priest - she wasn't sure. "Fox sent me to get checked out." There was a whiff of chemically treated air about her that didn't belong in the natural world, but the shakes and stiffness had gone completely. She felt fit as a fiddle (if slightly hungry), and hoped Lecter wouldn't be in the mood to diagnose her with Filthy Foreigner Plague.