Shamus
It was no use, luck and adrenaline could not keep the tired Saffron moving through the marsh. He needed to take a break and catch his breath before his lungs burst. Not knowing whether he had half the pack behind him or if he had lost his pursuers, Shamus decided he needed a bit of insurance. There had to be at least one superstitious wolf in the lot of them, perhaps he could use that to his advantage, as long as Schemeko was not with them, that is.
Slowing to a halt, Shamus quickly nuzzled through his pack between breaths. Finding what he wanted, he removed a glass vial of deer blood, something he used for another one of his tricks. Removing another wooden trinket that looked pretty identical to the first from his satchel, he burst the bottle over the pendent with his teeth, covering the necklace in dripping red. After that, he attached it to a overhanging branch at a choke point in the trail that forced any wolf heading that direction to go that way. He didn't know if any wolf would take it as a bad omen, or if anyone would even stop, but it was worth giving up his head start to try.
The whole procedure took about a minute, which gave Shamus a hope that perhaps they had lost his trail. Still needing time to rest, Shamus dove into a hollowed log nearby that was so rotten it could barely maintain its shape. Snuggling in as far as he could go and screwing his face up from the smell, Shamus waited as he caught his breath.