Lob took a few more moments to work his weapon until it positively glowed, he shuddered from the effort but finally felt that the work was finished and licked his hand clean of the last remnants. While he had been polishing his pounder, he watched the alpha female do her work to gather information. When she dropped the eyes off her arrow, Lob loped over and took the two s he got closer to her but a respectable distance.

[color=007236]"Lob find good! Find them!"[/color]

He sniffed the eyeballs in his hand and emulated the tracking of a dog to squat next to the dead mercenary. With his first tribe he had lived with the dogriders and slept with the dogs at night. He had learned to track by scent, a skill apparently lost to most of all races and most rangers. They needed the stink of ten orcs to track them a mile, he could fine a single orc over ten miles.