Haunted Wood And When We Go Don't Blame Us

He cocked his head at the kid's explanation. Could nice mean all of those things? Nix had never told him. Nix had claimed kindness was weak, that love was a distraction. Nix had sharpened him into a blade, raised him to be just as broken and heartless as himself. 
But that wasn't entirely right...was it? 

He shook off the circular thoughts and refocused on the task at hand. Tracking. 
"A flattened bit of grass...he was crouching here."  He gestured to the sign. It was a bit difficult with one eye, but he managed. Finding the scent he followed it a few paces, then his heart sank. "A few tufts of fur....I..." He searched the area, hoping...but nothing. "It stops here."