One by one, all four pack members cross through the Gauntlet into the Hisil. Some... more quickly than others. Three fearsome Urshul tail on a raggedy wolf, painting an unusual but unified picture of a true pack. Almost instantly, the four can smell the pervasive smell of ozone and animal musk - it saturates the damp air of the twisted forest's edge. Red eyes flit to and fro in the mists like will-o-wisps.
The fog, seeming to have a mind of it's own, billows out further from the woods. It envelopes the pack, saturating their senses and limiting vision.
Perception and tracking based on sight or smell are each at a -2 penalty while within the mist.
A low, throaty rumble sounds just ahead and all of the watching eyes, at once, seem to come alive. Dozens of unblinking eyes now fix their gaze in the direction of the pack. Watching, waiting.
On that note, perception checks!