The Bracken Woods broken bearings

Aiolos would trail the scent of a bull four hours now and he seemed he was still hours behind. The sea faring man was not yet anywhere near the hunter he wanted to be for his family. Far from the sea and now far from the large lake which made up most of his home, the fisherman was far beyond his comfort zone. Trailing a scent wad hard enough- through feets of snow? Worse. 

It didn't take much to loose track, his nose carrying him elsewhere. Towards the scent of another wolf- male, young. The red man drew nearer, smelling the other but not seeing him huddled in the brush for warmth. Aiolos woofs out a greeting and waits.