Perfectly unaware of the silent encounter between shaman and spirit going on in what is, for him, the background, Leylek busies himself with his own task, his head jotting up and down, scanning the horizon now, and the ground immediately after. Their lead grows. he grumps. I count six. Not riding together anymore. he hisses something more under his breath, probably a swear word too horrible to even contemplate, in a tongue alien to his companions' ears. He leans forward once more, going over both sets of tracks, looking for the trail of the shoeless horse bearing no rider. Could it have really been the Oni? Soon enough, he should know for certain.

Spoiler: OOC
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Survival, if needed: (1d20+10)[13], assuming Raksha can bother to assist; and
Knowledge (geography): (1d20+3)[23]