Ravensblood Forest the tree who cried crimson

Derg was exploring.
He didn't have much energy about him so his head hung low and tail rested easily by his hocks as he wandered deer paths through the woods.

His ears tilted backward, the breeze blowing a scent from behind into him.
He did not yet recognize this scent, having not yet been particularly useful on the borders. Yes, he laid his scent, but most of where he lay his mark was within the territory.
Though he doubted this one wasn't welcome, otherwise Donovan would have already struck them down.
He turned on his track, waiting to face whoever sought him with his scarred face showing fully.