Sex: Femalesorry about the delay, steph! life at me.
They went on for what felt like forever to Mojave, though in a manner of speaking it may not have been far from a typical hunt. She remained steadfast in the wake that Nightingale forged, alternating between following the stray scents that came to her and taking quiet study of the terrain that varied out ahead of them. Just once, she had hoped that she would spy out the deer and their venture would be shortened for good reason, but nothing of the sort came along as they approached thicker cover and its pesky brambles.
And so, Mojave continued to follow. It was for good reason, for the closer they drew to the old bedding spot the stronger the smell of the ungulates became. She was not as skilled as her counterpart in such an art of telling things apart, and thus it all smelled like deer to her. Instead her attention was drawn to the medley of tracks that wove through the dense wood, particularly set on the young that may have travelled with the herd.
She was so caught up in following where they went with her gilded gaze that she almost didn't catch the halt that Nightingale made to do the same. It jolted her in the sense that she thought she'd crash into her, never minding the fact that they weren't entirely on top of one another. Mojave tried to play it off but she knew she had been caught unaware by the backwards glance, and opted to make up for it another way.
"Looks like they stayed here for a bit," she said, though that much was obvious. It was the first thing that came to her. She drew her gaze away from her hunting companion to their surroundings, drawing in the air much in the way that had unknowingly gone on moments before. "I don't think they'll be coming back here, it smells... kind of... dunno, old or something. Musty," she went on to say, correcting course. "I'm not sure which way they went, there's tracks going in opposite directions through here."