Fox's Glade just shine a light into the wreckage

Tracking the deer? He could do that! His mother had finally explained just why she watched the bison and now the deer. It was still a bit of a foreign concept to him, but it was one he was willing to put in the effort for. After all, if it helped his hunting then it would be worth it in the end. Maybe hunting was his hobby? Could a job be a hobby? He liked it...but it wasn't collecting rocks or sticks or whatever. Leta had suggested feathers from birds since he hunted, but they were a little hard to keep track of. The wind had a nasty habit of blowing them away.

West shook his head realizing he had fallen too far into his thoughts to actually be focused on the task at hand. Tracking. Follow the prints, observe the numbers. Except there was another scent near the borders, something— no someone. The woodland boy never strayed from Easthollow's land, but this really wasn't that far. If it was Clay's kidnapper or Leta's attacker then he wouldn't let them get any further.

He deviated from his path, the heard's tracks now abandoned as he sought after his new target. There was no doubt as he trailed after the scent that it was another wolf. It didn't take long to notice the prints and shortly after the raven boy who seemed lost in his own hunt. Well, at least he wasn't some kidnapper or whatever...wait— this guy was around his age, Hey— wait what exactly was he suppose to say? The only guy his age was Charles but...he was weird. A new trail of thoughts began to spiral through his mind as he stood like a deer in headlights. He really should have planned this out better.