Sawtooth Spire tin cans and string

The reassuring nod from his father pushed him onwards, eager to catch whatever thing had left the scent trail. He wasn't sure how long it actually took to track prey, and would come to learn that not every tracking endeavour was successful. Today's however, was proving promising. The trail the rabbit had left led the boy and his fiery-furred companion further into the woods and towards a small burrow dug into the side of a tree.

Sitamat frowned at another peculiar scent that lingered in the area. It was stronger than the rabbit's, almost overwhelmingly so the closer they got to the den. A metallic, rotting scent mixed with it, which the pup recoiled at and stopped a short distance away from the entrance of the burrow, nose wrinkled. He looked up at Iqniq with the same look of distaste, silently questioning him what on earth was that horrid smell?

Unbeknownst to Sitamat, the rabbit he had been tracking had met it's end at the claws of a wolverine who lurked in the burrow now. From the carcass of it's meal, it lifted it's head, letting out a warning snarl at the wolves outside it's temporary shelter.