Haunted Wood And When We Go Don't Blame Us

The stopping of the trail could mean anything, Clarence thought. But his mind immediately went to what Memory might've been thinking as well - a predator had picked one of the pups off. He shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"There's no blood or signs of a struggle," he explained, nosing around the area. It really sucked - his ears were far better than his nose. "Maybe the rain just washed the rest of it away."