Hushed Willows cause he can't compete with a man like me

many times sobeille had coursed a lowly scent through the briar; sometimes to fruition, and sometimes to nothing but an empty stomach. large game was different. the path they traveled was more linear; their feet larger and therefore supplanting more scent; their bodies often disturbing leaves, branches, and twigs as they grazed.

the trail went stale near a rough patch of stone. sivaak’s instruction not to lose it thrummed in the girl’s ears.

she doubled back, and on her second pas through found a branch of red berry bent back, a tuft of cream fur held in one curled prong of wintergreen leaf.

sniffing around the base, sobeille found a new set of tracks leading away and sped after it at a careful trot.