Ankyra Sound some things follow you anywhere you go

He wore a bracelet of scabs around his ankle. Blood oozed now more than it dripped, but the fur that it stained was already frosted white by salt deposit. Further up, the junction of his hip was matted and slick. The wound there wasn't deep, but it was in a place where the skin pulled with every step he took, and so it bled when he was not of a mind to stay still — which was often.

He favored that leg. It made his progress slow as he traversed the seaside forest, but he had the look of a man with nowhere pressing to be. Perhaps he would have moved slowly either way.

The bounty hunter paused atop a step rise to look at the deep gully on either side. He scratched his claws into the dirt and found redwood bark underneath. This giant had fallen long ago, and now it crumbled beneath his paws as it was reclaimed by the earth it grew in.

This could not hold his attention. He lifted his head to scan the dense forest, frustrated by the loss of the trail. He'd been going on a hunch for days, now. Perhaps his quarry had gone the other way.