A matter of concern for the Hadereum
The Gnoll was persistent, one had to at least give him that. Out into the busy street he walked, slowly, carefully, his face moving slowly back and forth as passersby gave him a wider than normal berth.
Then he stopped, knelt, and scrapped a bit of dirt covered wax from in-between the flag stones with one of his blunt nails and raised it to his nose. Encouraged he moved on...down, down the road to find where a spent bit of wick had been jammed into a crushed weed on the roadside.
He followed the prints from. The crushed weed across a little dirt side path until be found himself at the docks, looking about amid the cawing of gulls and the scent of sea spray. "They came down this way..." he said aloud somewhat to himself.