The Sunspire a man of words and not of deeds

what ever are timelines and travel times? playin' it fast and loose over here.

The smell of blood was something Phox could rarely pass up, especially when that blood belonged to an ungulate. He had been a tracker for more years than he could count, and tracking a fresh trail of blood was one of his favorite types. It splattered the snow like inky black when the sun was still under the horizon, then began to show itself bright red when the first rays of daylight attempted to make their way through the clouds.

"Oh, just die already," someone said, the speaker's body obscured by the trees. And that would be the other set of tracks that had gone before him. They must be the one who had injured the beast, running it down until it could no longer go on.

Not wanting to miss his chance, Phox kicked it into high gear (or as high as he could with only 3/4 of his legs) and did his best to catch up to the other hunter. Assuming he'd managed to reach her, he called out, Hey! Need some help?