Rey might've not been the best in tracking, but he was better than these mortals. He had experience and the sharpness of vision that was enough to notice even the smallest trails of the passing party. A rock that was moved by a leg instead of wind. A batch of moss that was stepped upon and didn't yet return its previous volume. The moisture that should've been covering a leaf of hanging over the stream bush, but was gathered by someone's sleeve.
It was a slow process, though, even for a god. Then the darkness came, and though it wasn't an obstacle, it was a show of how much time had passed since the beginning of the search. He was glad when the trail left the rocky ground and returned to the softer plains, where tracks stayed visible for longer. To Rey's surprise, the heretics circled back, away from the mountains completely.
'So this all was to make us drop the trail… Well, well, well. I wonder where you truly walk.' Rey thought, intent on soon finding it out.
