Sun Mote Copse Won't you take my cane and hold my hand

Tracking down someone while being upwind of them was not easy. For the first half of her border patrol, Niamh followed her son's tracks with the intention of catching up with him- but she could tell from his tracks that his pace had accelerated from a walk to a trot, and then to a lope and she could only assume that he'd spend up because her scent had gotten stronger. Unfortunately for the boy, Niamh's legs were longer, she was more fit, and better trained for endurance so though he'd put on a burst of speed to put distance between then, Niamh had managed to pace herself and eventually, managed to tire him out. She saw him ahead in the distance, huffing and puffing as he continued to trot along, though she could tell that he was tired. 

She chuckled as she trotted alongside of him, reaching out to nip at his ear when he finally slowed to a walk, breathless. She panted, but was not completely out of breath, so she had the air to crack a joke. "I like this form of jogging," She said. "But you need to get yourself in shape. You had at least a twenty minute head start on me, and look at us now," She said, with a playful growl and bounded a pace away only to rebound with more force, knocking her shoulder into his and laughing as he staggered.