Sleepy Fox Hollow But you're perfect being yourself

His howl faded from the forest, and for a minute he was enveloped in the rushing silence of the woods. 

Anselm picked up a trot, following Ciri’s scent. The ground was hard, leaving little tracks — but he was able to isolate scents left by her footprints here and there, the occasional tuft of fur imparted on thorny shrubs. 

Nearby, he sensed rather than saw Etienne. Nose to the ground, Anselm pursued the now distant Ciri, content her tracks bid straight for the borders, but irritated nonetheless another itinerant broke their borders. 

He would double down on the borders where she had first crossed into the hollow - but first, he had to find it.