Lost Creek Hollow forfeited

He finds the stranger's path easier to follow when they pick up speed, because they begin to grow careless in their haste. The game is entertaining. It gave Tulimaq purpose, and so far had been more successful than his previous hunts for edible beasts; he knew he had a bigger purpose than these things, but he had always been ready to deviate from the expected. 

When they finally stop, he stops just in time so that he remains hidden. But there is a voice, and the sound strikes at the trees, demanding answers. Tulimaq knows he shouldn't find this as entertaining as he does, but he cracks a small smile. Thin and tense. This creature he has been tracking is hardly a wolf, and would never survive within Tartok, he thinks. He wonders what their purpose is within the horde—

Ah, but he could just as easily ask these questions rather than speculate. So he does as he's asked, taking on an easy stride as if he's been minding his own business the entire time. His silhouette creeps around a copse of young trees and then he stops, the sunlight glinting around him; but he levels his moody golden gaze upon the stranger, and lets out a bored chuff.