Honeyed Pasture I don't know who to trust

The youth stiffened at first, but quickly relaxed. Rodyn would remember not to touch without asking. He was as brief as he could be. Not lingering to make the child feel uncomfortable. And quickly moved back into his own position.

Rodyn didn't know if other's were like him or not. He was born to hunt. Found a sense of religion in it. It eased him when his heart felt heavy. It was a way to give back to those he loved, and he listened. He had always listened as a child. The sound of hoofbeats on the ground. The pitter patter of rabbit's feet, but not everyone was like him. Though it seemed this little hunter would be.

Rodyn was genuinely surprised when the voice, reached him. Quiet, demure like the youth, but a sense of wisdom in his words. He was an old soul this one. And Rodyn both was happy and sad for him. You did not make it easy when you had an old soul.

A smile lifted up his maw. Yes.

He realized the youth wanted to figure out the smells on his own. So he gave what he asked for, one word.

Rodyn stalked through the tall grass, towards the rabbit warren. Silent footfalls. The youth hopefully following. He would smell the rabbits closer to them, and then once he was able to smell them, should be able to put their scent to memory.