Deepwood Weald We're up all night playing video games

Scent trails were splashed across the ground in front of him. If Lucas closed his eyes and turned all his focus on his nose, he could almost draw a map in his mind's eye of the forest based on where the smells went. There, a hare's subtle musk overlapped with the more pungent, lingering aroma of a buck long past. He felt saliva pool around his gums. The trail was fresh.

Lumbering along with his eyes half-lidded now, the boy attempted to keep track of where the hare had gone, but the trail seemed to wind and wend in nonsensical ways. He lost it several times and picked it up again further from where he expected to find it. Much as he wanted to celebrate the small victories in finding it again, each recurrence only made frustration spark in his breast. Why was this so difficult? He wasn't used to being bad at things and it showed on his blue eyes that despite his sunny disposition, being bad at the one thing that would ensure his ability to survive on his own wounded Lucas' pride.

When he lost the trail again, he lost it for good. He was unable to pick it up again. Defeated, Lucas slumped his shoulders and decided he might as well head back home, but then Speedy called attention to herself. He turned slowly, hoping self-consciously that she hadn't seen his hopeless attempt at tracking the hare, and beamed at the brown-and-white she-wolf. Meeting her golden eyes for a moment and then glancing politely away, Lucas greeted her with a bright, Hello! whilst pushing the hare and the lost trail both from his mind.