The dogs barked and pulled urgently
“Looks like they’ve got a trail!” shouted the struggling handler
The bloodhounds were let slip from their leashes and bound off into the woods clamouring, they knew where they were going.
“We’ve got something!” the men ran off in pursuit of the slavering pathfinders.
Thick copses of firs obscured visibility, the men sprinted near-blind, following only the sound of the baying hounds. Brittle saplings grabbed at their legs, and low branches whipped their faces.
Suddenly came the sounds of urgent yelps, far out of sight the dogs were being attacked.
This was a trap.
Law of the Letter 