The Sentinels I made it in my mind because

the sentinels command kjalarr's attention once more; keen eye kept upon the medium sized herd whose movements he tracks, having decided without council from any others ( a mistake, probably ) that the sentinels were the bay's primary hunting grounds. the soft snowfall agitates the budding arthritis in his left hind leg, the slight limp as he favors his right is more noticeable; unable to mask the grating ache. still, he persists.

soon, his path crosses with the scent of a stranger, and beneath that: a relatively fresh scent of boar. relief, that it is not the herd the stranger pursues, followed by curiosity. kjalarr makes to intercept, alerting the stranger to his presence ( if his footfalls did not already do so, uneven as they were ) with a low chuff as to not startle stranger or quarry.