Haunted Wood Run Me Like a Racehorse

As the hunter moved through the forest, he too followed the scent of deer, temporarily unaware of his distant follower. Calhoun paused to decipher between two scent paths when his ear flicked, the sound of footfall growing near. The sound was faint but soft in a way unlike hooves causing him to temporarily abandon his quarry. Perhaps one of his fellow Kingslend had a similar idea, as long as it was not the scorned pelt of grey Cal would gladly take a hunting comrade. 

The Déorwine turned, intent on meeting the other halfway when their scent finally reached his nose. It was a stranger. Who travels here? He had yet to land his red gaze on the intruder, voice loud and stern, yet not outwardly aggressive. He couldn't entirely blame the other. Their claim was still new, but that would not excuse the fact that their trespassing must be addressed.