Swiftcurrent Creek Who do I smell?

Thyme was blissfully unaware of the shadow that followed him. He went to a mark and sniffed it. He frowned. It wasn't the scent itself but ... Frustrating! He continued further to the next mark. One where someone had rubbed against a tree. He pressed his nose to it and inhaled. He closed his eyes. Faint... Familiar. He moved his nose to the ground but it didn't tell him anything. He lowered himself, daring a step closer but then pulled himself back. He wasn't that foolish to tress pass.

Thyme trotted away from the border, but after a few paces he stopped. A nagging feeling. He turned back to the tree and sniffed it again. He tried to sniff the air but came up empty. The scent was faint, but then again, if he thought who it was... she might not be really at the borders. But it might not be her, maybe family? It smelled like... when he was a child but so faint. Thyme moved back to where he came from, tracing back the marks on the border, sniffing the air. Perhaps he should just howl and see who came to see him? But he was in such a foul state. Hesitantly he looked into the territory, like that would make him any wiser, debating his approach. Perhaps he should return another day.