Cedar Sweep Keep moving, she said.

The shuffling of brush ahead of him, followed by distinct 'snap's of pulled and plucked shrubbery indicated he was not alone. A boar, perhaps? That could not be so, as usually snorts and other rude noises were accompanying such noises. This was something smaller, behind the brush.

Well small meant prey-able, so the Sekket slipped into silence, using the sudden ruffles of leaves and such to cast over the barely audible crushings of grass underpaw. He slinked around the bush, taking a chance to hope he wound up behind the prey's line of sight, and downwind of the breeze, rending him as nothing findable in the gusts of gentle winds.

Golden eyes saught purchase on a form, and a flash of scarlet drew him home. A fox? No, he couldn't eat a fox. He may have been a bit hungry, but the Prince was never desperate enough to eat something like that of a fox.

Standing up back to his full height, almost 3 feet, no including the regal stalks of his auds, he addressed the company.

"Hello."

A small whiff of the fragrance from the fiery coated form before him awashed him in confusion, as it was the size of a nimble fox, but his nares swore it was wolf. Regardless, he held his tail aloft, friendly and swishing, posture that of a poolite companion.