Saying that the trail left by the stranger was easy to follow would have been a gross understatement. Every inhale brought another waft of grafts clinging almost lazily to her damp nose, running into her nostrils to be stored away with the rest of the information. She wouldn't have even needed to run her tongue along the leathery surface to wetten it if she hadn't wanted to. It was as if the trail was begging to be followed. No, tracking him was easy, but pacing their steps? That was hard. Should the stranger see fit to stop and rest, or catch wind of a hare the pair would run the risk of crossing paths with him. What a pity that would be. He surely wouldn't lead them back to his pack, knowing that they'd been trailing him for so long, and if the Gods granted him anything in the way of knowledge, he might actually think to lead them to another pack's borders. She pondered Greer's thoughts on the matter, but said nothing.
Neither of them had spoken yet, focusing entirely on the matter at hand, though sometimes she'd glance over to make sure he was still there. The light thudding of his paws against the soil should have been enough to suffice, but still, she looked. It was almost awkward, a strange thing since the woman tended to prefer the silence. Ah well, there would be plenty to talk about once they returned. Craw was waiting, after all.