Dragoncrest Cliffs many are the strange chances of the world

His footsteps pushed him closer to the hunt, and he began to go through the motions to bring it closer. The trail was clear, he didn't have to work hard there and he was game to pick up his pace. Halfway between every thought, though, he was thinking about the causes--who, why, what, but this distraction didn't suit him already. Going in to this frustrated and peeved already would do him no good, so, after clenching his teeth, he willed it away in favor of easy meat--even if it was possibly finishing the job something else started.

Before he could delve any deeper down this blood-stained path and in the midst of his mental re-settling, Étoille's chuff sends his attentions abruptly elsewhere, and focus was quick upon the masked scout. "Hei," he returned with a short nod, and wasn't about to deny how relieved he was to change tactics a bit here--now he was able to account for less wearing it down, waiting for blood-loss to weaken it further before he made his strike. Between the two of them, he was sure this could go quickly and he felt like odds effectively doubled now with a comrade. Such a new confidence lengthened his stride and made work to gain ground faster. "It was still moving along quick when I saw it last but.." he gestured ahead, below, with a knowing look on; but for how long?