The hyena glanced sideways at her, studying her face, and upright posture. "I don't recognize your kind," he said. "What age would you claim?"
"My kind…" Sonder repeated.
It was always a strange question.
She looked human and thought herself so too, but that wasn't entirely the truth.
But still, it would be simpler to explain it like that instead of the full truth.
"I'm human," Sonder said. "And I'm young."
"A child of Man," the hyena mused. "I could have guessed. But I've never actually seen one."
The fox sniffed the air carefully, nose wrinkling.
"It will be harder to track him now," he said.
"Because of me?" Sonder asked.
"Because of what you carry," the wolf-man corrected. "Your shard's scent mixes with his. The trail becomes tangled."
"It will not stop us," the bloodhound woman added. Her voice added a certain reassurance. "We have followed worse prey in storms and winters, through bogs and marshes. No precision will be lost."
Sonder felt oddly guilty.
The hyena huffed. "Besides… We are already too close to stop."
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I can smell decay and carrion close."
They stopped briefly as the bloodhound crouched low, pressing her palm and nose to the soil. Her eyes narrowed with concentration. "If he had not damaged my nose," the bloodhound woman cursed.
The wolf murmured, "two days, no more."
"He passed through here then," the hyena confirmed. "But… something's different. His scent is stronger now. He grows more powerful with each sun that rises."
"And more reckless," the fox said quietly. "He no longer hides. Or he cannot hide his presence any longer."
"Then what do we do?" Sonder asked.
"We follow," the bloodhound replied, rising to her full height. "He flees no longer. His power burns a path."
The wolf-man stepped forward, motioning deeper into the woods.
"Keep your sword ready, mage," he said. "If he finds us before we find him-"
"We will need your fighting prowess again," the hyena finished with a half-grin, half-grimace.
It was the closest any of them had come to humor since they met her.
Sonder adjusted the sword at her hip.
They walked until the last hints of day vanished behind the treetops. What little light filtered through was swallowed by the dense canopy long before it reached the ground.
But the eyes of the beastfolk weren't bothered by the darkness, and Sonder had gotten used to it long ago.
Finally, the bloodhound woman raised a hand, signaling them to stop.
Her nostrils flared. Slowly, she turned her head toward the rising slope of earth ahead.
"He passed near here," she whispered. "Recently."
The wolf-man stepped forward and tested the air.
"Yes. His scent pours from that direction. Strong. Fresh."
Sonder followed their gaze, and saw darkness splitting the rock face.
A cave mouth. Wide enough for a wagon to pass through. No carved arch, no stonework or symbols. Just a gaping wound in the mountainside
A cold draft rolled from it, carrying the smell of damp stone…
…and something else. Something so strong that even Sonder could smell it.
The shard in Sonder's pocket pulsed once; a steady thump, another heartbeat, but unsteady against her own. Fast and uncertain, scared.
"That's where he went?" she asked.
The bloodhound nodded. "He must have sought a place below ground, away from light."
The hyena pressed his hand against the rock, testing its solidity.
"No signs of a camp," he muttered. "No fire. No tracks of sleep or rest. He is in the cave… and I do not think he plans to come out soon."
"Then we should go after him," the wolf said.
The beast-folk exchanged glances.
"No," said the bloodhound. "Not so quickly."
"And why not?" the wolf said defiantly.
"If he knows we follow," she answered, "he may do something desperate. We must move carefully."