Shimmering Sands "it's calm before the storm, winslow."

The sneer that met the stag was a common one. Knaven hadn't expected him to come up with a retort, but he had found it rather enjoyable that Lionel had admitted his failure. With a warm chuckle, the earthen rogue shook his head and offered a sarcastically encouraging, "well I'll just give you a free pass for when you've filled your gut." Hopefully by the time they had caught their meal and settled, Lionel would forget about the verbal spar. 

Trotting after the creamy male, Knaven felt his stomach tighten as they ventured inland and away from the sea. The dismal weather did not give up. Once they had found themselves at the treeline, the brothers both stopped to shake their coat. Knaven then dipped his head to drink in the unfamiliar aroma of the wood. There were wolves that had passed through, but the smell of prey was not in the air. The rogue looked to Lionel expectantly.