Felltree Marsh lives of the witching circle

haunches lowered to the earth; teeth plucked unhurriedly at the grass and dirt caught between his claws. 
but you cannot
but i must
that woman, she had known it was important to him. and that boy, he had followed her bidding. in pretense she had offered a kind word; he felt again the shove of her shockingly strong arm, and ire licked pleasantly inside him again.
this was far better than being dragged from place to place by his own grief. so long as she kept his amulet, he would know where she was, a monstrosity yanked from an enchanted artifact and released into the world.
lestan scratched idly beneath the tracker around his own throat and stood. "they knew it was mine, sacred to me. nothing to them. they stole it all the same."
there would be no answer for shardik. the mayfair began to trot through the marsh once more, senses extended to trembling lengths and searching for the bonepiece.