Aster Wiel did not know how to track a target.
No, he thought. Of course I know how to track a target. Just not this kind of target. For days, they had tried to follow the suspect, with varying results. Aster's team had to pull back as rumors started about them. They sent Aster because he hadn't taken part in the reconnaissance.
However, Aster had no other advantages. If he could find the suspect by keeping a low profile, this would be over by now! Shoving that thought out of his mind, Aster ran a hand through his hair. He knew the scents of his teammates. He had touch-recognition with his teammates. He had touch-recognition with every Tracker in the area, except this one.
Aster, following a scent trail so faint that he wandered the wrong direction several times, ended up in a garden at the center of town. Glancing at a street sign, which told him he stood at the intersection between something and something else, Aster clenched his fist with irritation at himself. He didn't have nothing. He had a name, but a name wouldn't do him any good, at least not on his own.
Aster showed a piece of paper to a stranger. The stranger shook her head and pointed.
The hunt begins. Aster pulled his gloves tighter over his knuckles and glanced down to see if his shoes were tied. He took one last look around the area; would anyone care if things got rough?
A wave. A returned greeting. In too short a time, Aster turned back to a missing target. Whispering curses at himself, Aster clenched his fist so tightly that he would have to coax it free later. Gone. Just like that. Did he notice me?
Aster checked his pocket for the piece of paper; that, too, had disappeared, tucked into the pocket of a stranger. Where did she go?
Aster stood within a crowd of strangers, but none of the right ones.