Dejah puts a hand on his shoulder. "There's no blood. Whatever happened here, he was not injured. But Curtis, look at these. These look like thoat tracks to me. If I had to read the ground here, I'd say he was knee deep in the mud here," she pointed to a soupier bit of the muck.

There's more disturbance in the mud a few feet away, and she points again, "And something tried to trample him. Something large. But something small -- a juvenile thoat? Issus this is strange. It looks like a juvenile thoat stood between a prone Edgar and a larger thoat. And then they both ran that way."

That way being where Woola is standing in the grass, his nose lifted. A moment later he comes back to Dejah, a decidedly dejected look on his face.