word count: 165

Hattori had finished the preparations- or rather his companions had done the majority of the work under his instruction. It was a simple exercise, but a good starting point to learn the basics of tracking and hunting, a skill all of his children needed to hone lest they find themselves out in the wilds with no stores in sight. Focusing on Jiro this time, admittedly the most difficult and Kuroki-esque of this litter (how did lightening strike the same place twice?), Hattori called for the boy and waited for him to arrive. He'd had his hound wear a scented cloth around his neck and traipsed through the bamboo, before finding somewhere quiet and out of the way to hide.

He was mostly there to offer guidance and instruction if need be, but he expected the boy to be able to handle this. All he needed to do was hone his senses and follow his nose, Hattori did not think he was asking for too much.

Though winter had made its way to Auster, the wind was still rather warm and balmy. Chilly weather did not often make its way this far south and being such a young pup, he had no real knowledge to compare it to anything. Rather, he enjoyed the warmth that shone down from between bamboo leaves as he lay stretched out in the middle of the communal area. His face atop a rock, eyes closed, and paws scratching the dirt every once in awhile as he fought off sleep.

Content to waste his day doing much of nothing, he was startled when the call from his father rang out. Nearly jumping from his skin, he leans up and looks around. Well, the old man isn't in the clearing. A sigh leaves him. He had to go find him? C'mon old man. Couldn't have come to me? Jiro thinks to himself as he lazily gets up onto all four paws, gives his fur a good shake, and slowly starts trudging his way to where his father's scent lingered.

Perhaps making Hattori wait longer than he should have been kept waiting wasn't the brightest idea, but it didn't actually dawn on Jiro until he stops before him and looks up at his father. The usual stale expression on Hattori's face is nothing new so if the man is annoyed at Jiro's lateness, he doesn't notice.

"You called?" Jiro asks, the least he could do is speak in his father's language which he secretly thought was pretty cool.

total word count: 419

word count: 191
total: 610

It wasn't set in stone that Jiro would ever be as bad as Kuroki was. It wasn't as if it had ever gotten bad enough to consider disowning his eldest, but it just seemed as though they wouldn't ever get along. A fact as true as they came, as blue as the sky above and green as the grass below. His first litter was a myriad of disappointments he likely wasn't entitled to feel. It wasn't as if he'd been a good father to them and with the way things had ended with Venom they would all likely never see him in a positive light.

Hattori side eyed Jiro for a moment, not liking his tone and his glower which intensified said as much. Behave, was left unsaid.

"I have a tracking task for you. My hound is hiding somewhere in the Maze. Find him." He stepped aside, his tail flicking in a gesture to get to work. The task seemed rather self-explanatory, just taking one whiff would be enough to get him on the right track, as the scent upon the cloth was rather pungent, as fish tended to be.  

Hattori's pointed glower sent his way straightened him up, if only slightly. Jiro knew better than to give his father too much attitude, especially when it appeared he had been called for a lesson. One dark brow is raised slightly as he looks out into the bamboo. His hound was out there? Looking toward where Hattori had flicked his tail, Jiro lets out a hum. Taking a step forward, he glances at his father one time, for a brief second, before tilting his nose upward. From previous lessons, he knew his nose would be his best tool. Follow the scent and he was sure to find the prize, but what scent was he after?

From the shifting of the breeze and the angle of his nose, all he could smell was... fish. Fish? That wasn't a hound scent. One more look cast in Hattori's direction, brow furrowed, lips pursed. Okay so... find the fishy scented hound? Sounded simple enough. Another tilt, a different angle of his nose, he can definitely scent which direction the hound is in. Would Hattori make it difficult? Would the hound move as soon as he got close? The question caused him to hesitate after a few steps, one more look back at his father. Of course he wouldn't get answer, that would defeat the purpose of the activity, right?

Nothing in life is easy. The words resonate in him as he takes a few more steps forward. His mother had told him those words after he had gone complaining to her after a different lesson. Her advice had been kind, but stern in a way that made him understand that he had to at least be patient and stick it out through the whole thing so he could try to learn something.

Looking around, he notices that there are no marks along the trees. Lowering his nose, he doesn't scent anything along the bamboo that would indicate the hound had marked territory either. When he lifts his head, he can't see any scat that's indicative of canine, but there are faint imprints of paws where the leaf litter gives way to dust and dirt. He was at least headed in the right direction. Making his way forward, down the path, he tilts his head upward again, allowing his nose to have unrestricted access to the gentle breeze that wafts through the bamboo. The strong fish scent is there and almost makes it too easy. Jiro's pace picks up until a fork in the path appears.

He could go left or right. Pausing, he looks either way. Both paths appear identical. Lined with thick, green bamboo stalks, notches in them from his older brothers and sisters to tell direction. Leaf litter still covers most of the dirt path so looking for tracks is near impossible. When he goes to scent the air once more, the fish scent is so strong that he has trouble discerning if he should go left or right. He lets out a grumble and looks back to his father. Admitting defeat this shortly into the lesson wouldn't do. But... maybe not a hint, but a good opportunity for a lesson.

"I am faced with two paths, there are no obvious indications that the hound has gone either way and I cannot tell which path has the stronger scent," Jiro speaks clearly to Hattori, still faced away from his father, pale eyes trained on moving back and forth between the paths. "What else can I do to help choose which way to go?" He poses the question in a way that Hattori can answer without totally giving away the answer. Would his father help or tell him to just give it a go?

wc: 620
total wc: 1230/1500

word count: 299
total: 1529

Jiro was a prudent tracker, didn't rush ahead nor did he make blind assumptions as he followed the trail, his silver gaze flitting as he took in his scenery. But this task by its very nature wasn't an easy one, not when the foliage was so dense, in places acted like a wall and stopped all but the most bracing of winds from pushing scents through. In this instance, Hattori had ordered his hound to be intelligent in how he traversed, doubling back in places, taking what seemed like nonsensical routes, but not to cover his tracks too well. The boy was not being set up to fail, but to learn.

And thus when he turned to Hattori for guidance, he indulged him. It was true tracks were obscured by the leaf litter and the dog had walked with light steps, but there were always signs, no one could truly vanish without leaving some sort of trace behind.

"See here." Hattori stepped forward, veering to the side of the left path to the edge of that corridor. He sniffed at the bamboo stalks, just very slightly bent out of shape as though someone had squeezed through then done their best to straighten them before pressing on. "Some wolves tie dangling leaves to their tails to sweep away their tracks.." Something the wolves of Iga did during infiltration missions.  "But in this case, the hound took a less obvious path then tried to conceal it as best he could."

With a flick of his snout he gestured for Jiro to press on, to see where the trail would lead. In all likelihood the hound had found somewhere quiet and was waiting out the task, he might have even fallen asleep since he didn't really need to be alert for this.