Flycatcher Downs i forgot softness, it did not serve me

Root stops head in her tracks when he informs here where he’d come from, that the herd wasn’t where she’d last seen them.  She narrows her eyes, looking to her left, then right, before glancing at the sky and feeling the slight wind roll over her thickened winter coat.  It would have been easy if they’d remained on her expected trajectory but the wolf told her otherwise.  Unless he’s lying.  She turns, facing him with eyes narrowed hard. 

She doesn’t stay like that for long as he unfurled his following question and statement, claiming to be a fair tracker. The girl clenches her jaw, looking away from the wolf into another possible pathway. “Come,” she eventually says, turning toward the southeast instead.  Perhaps they would have better luck in this direction.  Root hangs back a few feet, waiting for the other to take a step up to enemy lines and help find where the herd ended up.