Bearclaw Valley once upon a midnight dreary

A hum of displeasure passed his teeth at Nimue's frightened and frantic explanation. He wished she could be more clear, but he doubted they'd get anything useful out of her. Instead, he padded slowly forward and sniffed delicately at the fur around her wound. He couldn't see the extent of the damage, but he could smell a lot of blood - and something else. Female, mature but not elderly. There was little else to gain from her scent.

"She followin' you, sis?" he asked, though the scent was now distant up on Nimue's fur. It didn't seem like she'd be back, if the woman had allowed Nimue to escape her thus far. "How long ago did this happen?"