Stone Circle I shall now expose my chest, don't act like you're not impressed

With a quiet hff, Burr gave his head a shake and trotted back to Valette's side, though the telling crease of his brow never left. It was only expected that a kid his age would grow frustrated and impatient with something as delicate and time-consuming as accurate tracking. He wasn't precise enough to pinpoint the exact smell; he wasn't forbearing enough to not lost the faint threads of scent when his senses were scattered; and he wasn't a big fan of hunting to boot, which made the aforementioned impatience even more of a problem.

It was Valette's perseverance, and his inherent respect and fear of punishment, that kept Burr focused on his task. Had it been Illecebra or Mawk with him, he would long have thrown himself to the ground and given up. He nodded once and pursed his lips thoughtfully when the Alpha female compared it to a game, but ultimately, he disagreed. At least, it wasn't a game that he particularly liked, but Burr liked things easy, and this was far from it.

Burr followed as she crossed the stream, he struggling a little more with the current than she, and shook himself dry as she summoned him to her. The moment he padded over, he both saw and scented the raccoon once more—it was becoming easier now that he knew what it smelled like, and the water amplified its scent several times—and his tail gave a tentative wag. "I think it went—" Sniff, sniff, "—this way?" He gestured with his snout and took several steps toward the territory's heart.