Swiftcurrent Creek meat

Cutthroat’s lips parted, on the cusp of retorting to her that noise wasn’t all that specific and therefore of little to no use to him but stopped himself just short of her continuing on. No sooner had Bazi began to explain cutting off halfway through her explanation of specifics on the noise - at least this was what Cutthroat hoped, anyway - she cut herself off abruptly. He glimpsed at her quick, momentarily confused by the sharp end to her partial word when, finally, he heard it too. Ears slicked back to his skull as the hair of the nape of his neck bristled at the rhythmic thumping noises that gradually grew louder. “Ah,” The Pirate drew as acknowledgement to her talk of strange noises. He took notice when she moved closer to him, though it was a vague acknowledgment at best. It might seem that they had more pressing things to concern themselves with than close proximity. “It may just be a rabbit, lass,” He spoke attempting to soothe her because she was starting to make him nervous. “Or,” He drew in a breath, “It could be some giant hungry beastie.” It was probably an inappropriate time to crack a joke - especially considering his heart beat was measurably loud in his ears, no doubt encouraged to increase it’s speed by adrenaline - but he was trying to lighten the mood.

“It might not be as close as it sounds - whatever it is. The fog plays tricks on you.” It could turn even the most experienced wolf around until he was quite literally chasing his own tail. Why couldn’t it play tricks with sounds, as well?