Head hanging and shoulders slumping, Revali sighed in defeat. Though he would never admit it, she was right. He couldn't outrun an energetic young pup in his prime, let alone in his current, vulnerable state. Though he didn't necessarily want to lead forest critters to their deaths, it seemed to be their life or his, judging by the expression on the huntress' face.
"Let's just hope that dog is as g-good of a t-tracker as you say he is," Revali grumbled, "And he'd better be quiet, t-too, or he'll scare everything off."
Before another word could be said, there was a flash of light, and the man was gone, replaced by his smaller, more bestial form. His long nose twitched, instinctively trying to scent predators on the wind. It was only a few ticks before Revali stomped a tiny paw in warning, and then slipped into the woods, away from the clearing.
Revali walked with his stomach low to the ground, trying to avoid the gaze of hungry Kriitals or angry mama bears. His fur bristled in the stiff autumnal wind and his paws made soft crunching sounds against the leaves of the woodsy floor. And yet, among these distractions, Revali listened. High above him, he could hear the sound of songbirds and the tiny noises of many bugs. But that was not what he was looking for. What he was looking for was the near-silent skittering of squirrel claws on wood. And soon enough, he heard it.
The meerkat stopped, sitting naturally on the floor and looking up at the squirrel. Its eyes danced over to the meerkat, but recognizing him as some form of kin, paid no mind. Instead, he picked up a nut and began hammering away at it. Revali clicked his teeth together, emitting a sound not so unlike a squirrels' own. The furry creature looked up, staring straight at Revali.
Hopefully, the dog wouldn't be too close behind.