Brian shook his head, stopping for a moment to look around, leaning against a tree. Even his hungry expression flickered for a moment, tired. Still, after a few seconds he stood, arching his back, the only sounds now his footsteps. Each careful foot he pressed into the dirt and pine needles, looking for something, tracks perhaps.

Another rest, later, this one near a couple of red threads caught on a low-hanging branch. They gave him a reason to eventually stand and follow the trail still.

(yes, I'm this out of it)

Hesitantly Brian matched the pace of his prey, followed fast now, loping with the careless abandon that was much of the reason he was on this track. Branches crunched beneath his feet, his eyes were half-closed, listening more than following with his eyes now...

...listening because a second pair of feet could be heard up ahead.