Moonspear maybe in time

“Okay,” the boy said with a firm nod. He could do that, easy peasy.

Once again, Altair circled back around to follow the trail, nose pressed close to the earth as he rummaged along. It was a winding trail that seemingly went where it pleased, and he thought that perhaps this was what rabbits did. It must have been an interesting life, even if it was a bit on the shorter side of things given the way that Moonspear rifled through rabbit warrens. He had grown up on a decent diet of them, anyway, and they were unfortunate play toys between the puppies.

All the more reason to capture one.

He stepped carefully through the spines and tips of a long, large branch that had been discarded at some point on high, pausing there briefly at a tuft of fur that was neither rabbit nor bird, but wolf. Someone had gone through here… Jarilo? Maybe. Perhaps it had been Saviguk; the hairs were dark and only somewhat familiar to him, though he was familiar with either wolf. He pressed on then, tempted to peer back to see if Atlas still watched him or had joined him, but could not pull himself away.

The scent was growing stronger, but it faded away sharply where the grasses clotted together and he was far too tall to push through them as gently as the hares did. But he did not go crashing through them and circled them instead, trying once more to pick up the trail that had been whisked away from his purview.